Everyone’s life unfolds in its own way.
What I share here are simply the moments
that helped me become a little more aware of my own consciousness.
Life doesn’t always change because something dramatic happens.
Sometimes it changes because, at some point,
we simply get tired.
Tired of repeating the same reactions.
Tired of the same emotional patterns.
Tired of feeling like we are moving,
but somehow staying in the same place.
Looking back, many shifts in my life didn’t start with clarity.
They started with a simple feeling:
I had enough.
About two decades ago, before I started working at National Taiwan University,
I used to change jobs every few months.
Each time, I had a reason.
A colleague, a supervisor, an environment that didn’t feel right.
At some point, I began to notice a pattern.
Not suddenly. Slowly.
When I was accepted into NTU, I made a quiet decision:
If something didn’t work this time,
I would try to look at myself first,
before blaming the environment.
I wasn’t sure what that would change.
But somehow, it did.
It became the longest job I had ever kept.
Later, I started to see something else too.
Sometimes the pattern isn’t only about us.
Sometimes it’s also about the system we are inside.
And some systems don’t really change
unless we step outside of them.
Relationships showed me even more
about my own consciousness.
When I first started my relationship with my partner,
I didn’t feel very secure within myself.
Because of past experiences,
I often found myself guessing, worrying, and questioning.
At some point, I noticed something that stayed with me:
It wasn’t only the relationship.
It was also the lens I was using
to look at relationships.
Once I began to see that,
something slowly started to shift.
Not overnight.
And not completely.
But enough to notice.
One of the more powerful shifts happened
about seven or eight years ago.
Maybe years of self-reflection
had prepared me for it.
There was a time when my interactions with some friends
triggered many internal stories in my mind.
I felt uncomfortable often.
At times, I could sense myself slipping
toward a kind of quiet heaviness.
I was tired of that feeling
returning again and again.
One day, a friend said something simple:
“Your life is actually quite good.
Don’t create unnecessary suffering for yourself.”
For some reason, that sentence stayed with me.
That night, I went home and opened a few random books,
hoping to find something.
I came across a line:
“What you focus on expands.”
I don’t know why,
but that moment felt different.
So I asked myself a question:
Why did you come into this world?
Is it to stay trapped inside your emotions?
The answer was no.
Then what is it?
To create a life that supports you
and the people you love.
I felt something shift, even if just a little.
And that was enough to begin.
In recent years, I’ve come across the idea of
levels of consciousness, something I later found discussed by David R. Hawkins.
I don’t really see it as a ranking system.
For me, it has been more like a way to pause
and gently check in with myself.
Where am I responding from right now?
Shame?
Fear?
Control?
The need to prove something?
Or something a bit quieter?
I don’t always know.
But I notice more than I used to.
One idea in that model is a turning point called courage.
Not because courage means being fearless.
But because sometimes courage is simply
the willingness to see ourselves
a little more honestly.
And maybe from there,
we get to choose—just a little differently.
Closer to who we want to be.
Or maybe closer to who we already are.
Looking back, many important decisions in my life
seem to connect to moments like that.
Choosing to be true to my identity.
Starting a life with my partner when I was 20.
Coming out to my family.
Starting my USANA business.
Immigrating to Canada, and much more.
None of these happened without fear.
And none of them felt fully certain at the time.
But perhaps they happened
with just enough willingness.
These days, the changes in my life feel quieter.
I don’t feel the same urgency I used to.
I don’t worry as much about whether someone replies.
I don’t measure everything by recognition or results.
Not because I’ve let go of everything.
But maybe because I’m learning
to see things from a slightly different place.
A place with a little less noise.
A little more observation.
A little more space to choose.
Maybe that’s what consciousness changes.
Not the outside world first—
but the place
from which we look at it.
At least,
that’s what it has felt like so far.
And maybe sometimes,
the beginning of that shift
is simply the moment we notice ourselves—
and become willing
to see ourselves
a little more clearly.
Further Reading
- If you’re noticing repeating patterns in your experience,
this article continues the conversation:
Why Do I Keep Repeating the Same Patterns in My Life? - For readers curious about the practice mentioned above:
Google search: Levels of consciousness David R. Hawkins
Featured Image
- Title: Watching the Act of Seeing
2016 · Nikon FM2 . Film Photography · Cologne, Germany