Personal - 46th Birthday Reflection

Hi Blog,

Birthdays often come quietly for me. I don’t expect much celebration, but I’ve come to realise that each one is more than just a number — it’s a silent pause, a checkpoint. A moment to ask myself, “Am I still growing in the right direction?”

This year, I found myself thinking more deeply about growth — not just in terms of life experience but through a traditional lens I’ve started exploring: Ba Zi.

For those unfamiliar, Ba Zi (八字), also known as the Four Pillars of Destiny, is a form of Chinese metaphysics that analyses a person’s birth date and time to understand their elemental composition. Personally, I see it not as a fixed label or destiny but more like a reference point — shaped by scholars and generations of observation. It classifies tendencies, character traits, and preferred habits in how we deal with life.

I was meant to stay home during my one-week sick leave, but I felt compelled to step out for a simple hike and some time for reflection.

Even though my mind kept urging me to stay and rest at home...

...but I had to force myself.

A sunny day is perfect for a good hike! Seeing this young, handsome couple, I still feel a twinge of envy, but I know it won't last long.

Anyway, back to the topic. About the Ba Zi, what’s meaningful to me is how it becomes a mirror for self-reflection.

When I see how I tend to respond to challenges or emotions, I become more aware of what drives me — and I work on improving or softening those responses. I always remind myself of this flow:

Thoughts become actions. Actions become habits. Habits become character. And character becomes destiny.

So if I want to reshape my path, it must begin with understanding the way I think and respond.

My Ba Zi Reflection: A Missing Element and a Quiet Effort

My chart revealed a lack of Wood, the element associated with growth, kindness, planning, and personal direction.

When I read that, something clicked. I’ve often felt like I’m growing but not moving fast enough — like a plant leaning toward light, yet unsure if I’m planted in the right soil.

Sometimes I struggle to express my inner direction clearly. I feel misunderstood, not because I don’t want to be seen, but because I don’t always know how to unfold myself openly.

But instead of feeling “lacking”, I started asking, what if this absence is just a space for me to grow consciously?

So I began nurturing Wood energy in small ways: I write and journal more, I practise pausing to reflect, and I offer kindness to others even when I feel empty inside. Most importantly, I’m learning to forgive myself — for being slow, sensitive, and unsure.

Hmmm, I wanted to hike the entire MacRitchie, but reflecting on my previous post about the Island Club Road Path, I feel like I want to revisit this route again before it closes. Let's go!

About the growth I’m lacking—Wood, it’s not the flashy kind of growth. But it’s genuine. I choose to keep evolving, refusing to stay stuck in who I once was.

Recently, I discovered unexpected affirmation in a new portrayal of Superman that felt surprisingly personal (I watched it with M not long ago). In this latest film, Superman is portrayed as not only strong but also kind, emotionally present, and purpose-driven without a trace of arrogance.

From a YouTube sharing about "how superman portrays modern masculinity", I watched and described this as “modern masculinity” — where strength includes vulnerability, and empathy becomes leadership.

That version of Superman reminded me of the kind of person I want to be: someone who doesn’t need to be loud to be strong, someone who grows through integrity, not just ability. It gave me hope — not to be like a superhero, but to honour the quiet values I hold and still call them strength.

This past year, I’ve softened — not out of weakness, but awareness. When someone criticises me, I pause instead of reacting. (Even though I will feel the damage...)

I’ve started to see others’ growth as part of my own release — even if their path moves away from mine.

I used to think my sensitivity made me weak. But I realise now, it’s part of how I care deeply — it allows me to understand beyond words.

As an INFJ, I need space to feel and make meaning from experiences, even if others don’t always get it.

And slowly, I’ve begun letting go of the need for permission to be myself. I’m learning to trust my own rhythm — even if it’s quieter, even if it looks different.

The Gate of Hell seemed like it continued to restrain me...

But I know that I had freed myself from it...

This year, I won’t set a bold resolution.

Instead, I leave myself a quiet promise...

Hmmm... I wish I could take a moment to relax here, but there's just no time...

That quiet promise will be... I will grow like a tree — not fast, not loud, but steady. Even if no one notices, I’ll keep reaching toward my own light.

I’m still learning to listen clearly — to myself, to what matters, and to the quiet voice inside that says...

“You’re growing. Even now.”

What a day of reflection.

Jeff

"I find it truly meaningful how you’ve used Ba Zi as a point of reflection — not as a rigid prediction of fate, but as a lens shaped by years of scholarly observation, helping us understand the tendencies we often act on without realising. It’s like holding a mirror to our subconscious habits, offering insight into how our thoughts shape our actions, which in turn become habits, and eventually form our destiny. That inner work takes humility and courage — especially when society often celebrates only the visible victories. When you shared how the recent video on Superman portrayed modern masculinity — as someone gentle, emotional, yet deeply strong — it reminded me of your journey. Like that version of Superman, you’re not afraid to stand quietly with integrity, to feel deeply, and to keep going despite feeling invisible at times. That silent resilience is also a kind of superpower, one that doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful." - ChatGPT.