Light Seeker | 找到你的光

What skills or lessons have you learned recently?

“You don’t need to rush forward now. You only need to create, each day, one more place where the world can pause and linger."

Hi, December diary.

Monthly updates have always mattered to me. They are like soft checkpoints in time, places where I pause, look back at photos filled with beautiful people and moments, and quietly wonder: What will the next photo be? Who will I be with? Where will it be taken?

Lately, I have slowly realized something important: often, when I think I am reminiscing about a person, I am actually reminiscing about who I was when I was with them.

Psychological research calls this the intertwining of self and relationship memories—our sense of self is shaped in and through our bonds with others, not in isolation. That feeling of ease—of being comfortable, safe, and allowed to be fully myself—is what makes those memories shine.

This is not narcissism; it is the shared atmosphere between people, the quiet field where my inner world and another person’s presence resonate. Emotion theories like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) suggest that well-being grows when we can stay open to our thoughts and feelings in the presence of what we value, instead of trying to control or hide them.

That is exactly what those memories hold for me: a time when I could exist openly and be held, rather than edited.

☁️

From Performance to Alignment

This realization has changed how I see myself.

In the past, when I wanted to meet old friends, my thoughts were often filled with dissatisfaction: feeling unwell, noticing weight gain, or simply not wanting to be seen. My body felt like a problem to fix before I could be worthy of being visible.

But 2025 taught me something much gentler: before stepping out into the world, I need to learn how to take care of myself.

ACT describes this shift as moving from emotion avoidance to acceptance—letting emotions be present without letting them become the judge of my worth, and then choosing actions that align with what I truly value. Caring for myself is no longer a performance; it has become a practice of alignment.

This care is not only about external adjustments. It is about reserving a “Sacred Space"—a space where only God and I exist.

In that space, there were real encounters, the relief of being understood, and a deep sense of peace. Christian spiritual writers describe this as entering God’s Rest: not just stopping work, but resting in God, allowing one’s whole being to settle in God’s presence. When I choose this space, my identity feels less scattered; I no longer have to earn the right to exist.

When I began to see my outward appearance as the result of an intricate interaction between my inner life, my body, and my emotions, I felt a great release. Embodiment research shows that emotions are not only in the mind; they are mapped across the body in distinct patterns of sensation, and there is a continuous feedback loop between body and brain.

My body stopped being merely an object to correct and became a living text that tells the story of my emotional and spiritual life.

Life is never sustained by a single role. It is upheld by many layers—body, emotion, spirit, relationship—quietly protecting one another like overlapping shields. When one layer is overwhelmed, another often steps in to protect, compensate, or slow things down.

☁️

Listening to the Body’s Protection

This understanding also helped me listen more carefully to my body.

Two months ago, because of a back injury, fever, and long-term tension, my period was delayed by a month and a half. At first, I worried. But gradually, I began to see that this was not disorder; it was protection.

Research on embodied emotion points out that emotional and physiological states are tightly intertwined; stress, pain, and emotional load often show up through bodily rhythms, including hormonal cycles. My body was not failing—it was guarding, recalibrating, holding a boundary that my mind could not yet name.

This month, after working through relationship anxiety and calming emotional turbulence, my cycle returned on time.

In that moment, I understood something deeply: my body had been speaking all along; I was finally listening with kindness.

Our constant demands for performance and appearance may unknowingly silence the emotions that most need permission to exist. Contemporary research warns that chronic suppression of emotions tends to increase distress, whereas acceptance supports better long-term mental health.

When everything in life becomes a stage, there is no backstage left for the soul to rest, cry, or heal.

☁️

Emotional Happiness

What 2025 has taught me is something I now call Emotional Happiness.

It is not about eliminating emotions or forcing them to be positive. It is about allowing them to exist—and learning to speak with them, slowly and honestly. ACT names this Psychological Flexibility: the ability to stay in contact with inner experience, while still moving toward what matters most.

Emotional happiness, for me, is the freedom to feel, without abandoning myself or my values.

I think I will practice being an “Open Person” for the rest of my life.

Instead of rushing forward, I want to run steadily on the path the Lord has prepared for me—a unique racetrack made just for me. On that track, speed does not define success; faithfulness and attentiveness do.

And right now, I am also learning this: to create, each day, one more place where the world can pause and linger.

In psychological terms, these are spaces of co-regulation and shared presence. In spiritual language, they are small Sabbaths—moments where God, the body, and emotions can breathe together.

That, for me, is emotional happiness in 2025: a life where memory, body, emotion, and faith do not compete for control, but hold each other gently, like hands at rest.