top of page

How Do You Want to Live Your Life

  • Writer: LifeDesigner with Jingyu Chen
    LifeDesigner with Jingyu Chen
  • 10 hours ago
  • 26 min read

Inspired by the eponymous Japanese animated film 君たちはどう生きるか






Chapter 1: My Blueprint of Being a Life Designer


1: Genetic or Epigenetic—My Verdict is, and Always Will Be Epigenetic

In my podcast with Dr. Mandy Patterson, a quote she quoted struck me deeply: “In the genetic world, genetics load the gun; lifestyle pulls the trigger.” While predispositions may be genetically inherited, it is epigenetic influence that determines whether and how they are activated, ultimately shaping one’s disposition and life trajectory. In the context of nutrigenetics, Dr. Patterson illustrated how our food choices can directly affect  our gene expression, influencing not only health outcomes but long-term vitality.


This brings up the eternal question: genetics or epigenetics?

Tracing back to my early years, I already sensed—albeit vaguely—certain limits in my own factory settings. Despite investing an exorbitant amount of time and effort studying, I still failed to crack complex mathematical equations or decode scientific formulas. It was almost as if a switch governing my cognitive capacity for abstract numbers and esoteric concepts was perpetually turned off; they simply did not register with me naturally.

This sense of inadequacy was further compounded by the educational system and upbringing I was exposed —one that placed singular emphasis on academic performance, appallingly dismissive to holistic human development. I was conditioned to believe that my future hinged on good grades and admission to a prestigious university. Throughout my teenage years, I felt deflated and defeated—and in the end, I did not enter a “good” university either.

In retrospect, I recognize that had I applied that same grueling level of dedication to other fields—art, music, language, or any medium resonating with my primal inclination and inner calling—the outcomes might have been vastly different. At  least, I would have suffered less, rather than carrying the constant, fierce inner narrative of not being smart enough.


If I could go back and redesign my application of time, I would have chosen the piano—playing a medium-level piece and entering a state of flow that sparked genuine joy—rather than remaining trapped by that unsolved math problem, despite my maximum effort.

Just one caveat, This is not to diminish the importance of mathematics—it should always remain a core subject in school, and its ramifications extend deeply into many facets of adulthood, from logic to financial literacy.  Yet, not all of us are “pure intellect,” and it is not a shame—on the contrary, it is strategic—to embrace the limits of our natural wiring. Pushing ourselves too hard against these boundaries can come at a personal cost: time, emotion, nd even the chance to pursue the unique life tasks we are meant for. Even in my early 30s, I still occasionally wake from nightmares in which I am petrified in a math exam, staring at a blank paper, unable to solve a single question. That relentless misalignment hit me that holding onto the grip against innate limits only pulls me further away from my true becoming—certainly not destined to be a mathematician, lol.

 

So, circling back to the original question—my verdict still lands firmly on epigenetics. Yes, we are all constrained by DNA to some extent; it forms our internal markers and baseline tendencies. But this does not mean surrendering at the mercy of our inherent traits. Instead, it calls for honoring and owning them—then devoting our time and energy to what innately speaks to us, because time is not infinite and life is not immortal.


2: How I Want to Live my Life – Unequivocal Clarity

It was through this understanding of epigenetics—not as science alone, but as lived, empirical experience—that I arrived at unequivocal clarity on a question inspired by 君たちはどう生きるか (How Do You Want to Live Your Life?), the eponymous Japanese animated film by Hayao Miyazaki. Built on a radical acceptance of our finite lifespan and a clear blueprint of the life we truly want, this clarity became a guide—directing how I choose to allocate time, energy, and attention, and how I live toward my ultimate vision by expanding my epigenetic bandwidth cognitively, emotionally, and physically amid external forces.


In 2026, I have evolved to the point where clarity rises above outward noise and inward conflict. I genuinely aspire to a life of longevity and vitality, imbued with intellectuality, beauty, and humanity. It may sound sweeping goal and seemingly  generic , but it has taken me nearly a decade to deconstruct a life that eluded clarity and awareness, and to reconstruct a vision for the life I truly want.


Fifth year into running my podcast, Life Designer, I feel that I can substantially—not merely conceptually—touch on the subject of being a life designer—I am living it right now. In the back of my mind, the image of my ideal lifestyle has gradually asserts its salience and appeal- I see myself in a beautiful place, perched in nature, fully immersed in reading, writing, playing piano, and exercising. Its just me in this image at  this moment, while my door to the heart is open. This vision stirs a vivid resonance—a blend of visceral sensation and existential presence.  It is not just imagined—it has become a part of lived reality, one that shapes my energy ,emotions and  actions essentially the way I inhabit each day.   To today, I have channeled my creativity, energy, and drive to craft a home that embodies my aesthetic and nourishes my creativity. Through this long process of metamorphosis, I have risen to command my inner sovereignty. Yet this life remains a crucible— a chronological and psychological alchemy of trial and error. I am constantly upgrading and refining epigenetic  infrastructure—my habits, systems, attention, and environment—that supports my ultimate version,  moving towards a long and vibrant life sitting  at the intersection of intellectuality, beauty, and connection.


3: Why Intellectuality, Beauty, and Connection

Life is architecture. Three pillar elements—intellectuality, beauty, and connection—architect the composition  of my life: Why Intellectuality, Beauty, and connection ?

In an era where cheap dopamine hijacks our attention and technology conditions us toward heuristics, depth becomes a quiet form of resistance. I may not be intellectual in the conventional sense, yet I am  inclined toward long-form, in-depth content. Content creation also serves as  my  intentional intelligence  training. What were once hidden and untapped life tasks of my have gradually taken its shape and form into writing and podcasting. I have never placed language on a pedestal for its own sake, though, I consciously cultivate articulation and eloquence—not to assert authority through complex lexicon or esoteric concepts, but to stretch my cognition and deepen my expression.  Hopefully,  I will  become a witty conversationalist with a hint of levity lol . Ultimately, I aspire to be someone whose presence remains collected, whose words carry gravitas, and whose mind evokes radiance.

I am also a creatively driven person, propelled by abundant novelty-seeking and curiosity. I found what register with my sensitivity and fuels my creativity unfold in the realm of  architecture and interior design, For me, they go beyond aesthetic disciplines—they are frames  that reshape my intellect through the lens of beauty.

My genetics may not have set me up to become a doctor or an architect, yet I grant myself the altitude to design a life anchored in depth and elevated by beauty. The result is both energising and expansive. I write hotel and travel reviews where I unapologetically speak in aesthetic and poetic language; I connect with professionals—doctors, designers, creatives—through long-form, in-depth conversations. At the core of my creative pursuits, the element of human connection consistently shines through.

I weave  these threats into the my life tapestry—my inner architect is shaping my outward reality. Last year, I began exploring a new form of podcasting—one that unfolds within architecturally magnificent spaces, where storytelling is shaped not only by conversation but also by environment, atmosphere, and place . A podcast recorded at the Gajoen Hotel in Tokyo marked the inauguration of this approach, allowing architecture, design, and the inner grandeur of space to become part of the story itself. From that moment,  my vision for the future of podcasting began to surface—one that aligns with my ultimate life vision.  This emerging form brought me a profound sense of awe, intellectual vitality, and the divine experience I had long sought. Once touched, I am drawn to pursue it intoxicatingly and perpetually.


4: Aligning My System with Vision, Values, and Identity

It may sound like a broken record, but my verdict on genetics and epigenetics remains: some ceilings are hardwired, yet within these boundaries lies epigenetic potential.

Building on this principle, my life-design formula has emerged after nearly a decade of exploration: habits, attention training, brain rewiring, and environmental design form my system. Yet it is governed by my vision, values, and identity, which shape every approach and choice in how I build it.

For instance, my genetic setting may not position me to become a doctor, but I can still pursue longevity—through a wholesome lifestyle, learning about wellbeing and fitness, and engaging in meaningful conversations with medical professionals. I focus on life skills that sustain independence while leaving space for what truly nourishes my mind and soul. Exercise, reading, writing, and my creative pursuits are non-negotiables—not arbitrary hobbies, but core pillars that expand my cognitive, emotional, and physical bandwidth, all in service of my ultimate life vision: longevity and vitality.

You may wonder why I don’t simply “rewire” to the extreme and aim to become a doctor, given that I advocate strongly for epigenetics. Individual potential may be vast, yet, as I noted before, time is not infinite. We are not immortal. By the time I connected with my life tasks, I was already in my early 30s. Every project I take on and every behaviour I exhibit must serve one central goal: to embody my identity, align with my values, and move toward my highest truth. I don’t have the luxury of time or energy to pursue everything—and it isn’t necessary.

Designing a life that aligns with vision, values, and identity is already a lifetime commitment. I have shared my ultimate vision loudly and clearly, but I also want to touch briefly on values: values are not mere words. They are reflected in our priorities, how we allocate our time, and can be measured through tangible metrics—our bank account, our lifestyle, and even our micro-behaviours and actions.

For example, I value vitality and longevity, so daily exercise is non-negotiable. I invest my most precious assets—time and energy—into passion projects that are not yet monetised. If I redirected that energy into finance, real estate, or other investment projects, I could likely earn more money. After all, I believe many of us can reach a certain level of competency, if not excellence, across multiple domains through repetition and pattern recognition.

Hence, I am keen to strengthen my ability to discern what is signal and what is noise—particularly in a digital world where information overload sits at our fingertips. I have to admit that part of my decision-making is often outsourced to intuition. Yet the key for me is to deliberately engage the prefrontal cortex: to weigh the true cost of time and opportunity in every decision and every choice I make. I am actively earning my financial independence. It is part of my value, but it is not the core of my value. Wealth building will never come at the expense of my vitality. I also uphold family as a central value. That is why I consciously carve out time to create memories with my two nieces.

It all comes back to the question I posed at the outset: How do you want to live your life?

In the short time we have, to be a true life designer means confronting how we want to live, honoring it, and then devoting the rest of our lives—fearlessly and relentlessly—to bringing that vision to life.


5: Identity At the Core

I put identity on a pedestal—period.

I don’t interpret identity literally. It is the core element we protect when designing our life. When our life vision is no longer blurred, our systems serve it, and our values operate quietly in the background, the salience of identity begins to shine.

For most people, perhaps shedding outdated identities and outgrowing former versions of the self is a natural process. In my case, it was a radical shift—a deconstruction that almost happened overnight, followed by years of intentional reconstruction.

Seven years into this current version of myself, I can now say with pride that I have built a new identity—one I fiercely protect. Not out of resentment toward my old self, whose character and integrity remain intact, but because I was once devoid of self-awareness and groundedness. I lived for far too long in muddled, murky spaces where clarity and precision completely eluded me.

My new identity grants me clarity and vision. I have never looked back; I move only forward toward my truth.  My journey  of making metamorphosis is delineated in the final chapter of my book, Life Designer with Jingyu Chen: A Journey Toward Discipline, Mastery, and Radiance, which unfolds first, how I connected to my life tasks through cultivating self-awareness; second, how interior design transcended into life design.

There is one word I want to highlight: wanting.

If I were to find a synonym or equivalent of identity , I might choose “wanting”—a word that carries both transcendence and direction.

  • I want gravitas in my narrative, so I strive for articulation and eloquence.

  • I want composure in my presence, so I regulate my emotions and choose not to react impulsively.

  • I want self-agency, so I hold myself accountable across all aspects of life.


These are not a manifesto—they are my empirical experiences, lived in life. Identity is both felt and chosen. It exists viscerally and existentially, where inner being and outward embodiment continuously reinforce one another. The question I posed at the outset—how do we want to live our life?—is also analogous to: what identity do we want to protect?

Years of deliberate practice, habit-building, and system refinement laid the foundation for my current blueprint of life design: aligning my system with vision, values, and identity, guided by a clear roadmap. I also realised our vision, values, and identity, which often have an enduring quality. Once they are truly built, They often sustain. They are often fixed factors. However, the variable factors, which are the systems that help us achieve our vision, our goals, or protect our identity and values, actually remain variable. To this day, I have a track record that demonstrates my resolve and execution in building a system that serves my ultimate vision. Yet now, I am aiming to become an agile architect  of lifesomeone who not only establishes well-functioning systems, but also possesses the agility to upgrade and iterate them in response to an ever-changing world.

In the following chapter, I will share an experiment I conducted over the past Christmas—a chance to test the waters, observe my system in change, and explore the potential of my agility in real time.


Chapter 2: A New Experiment Inaugurated — Becoming an Agile Architect of Life

We  don’t rise to the level of you goal, but fall to the level of  our system – James Clean


Upon my return  from Kyoto trip, another two and a half weeks of mandatory  Christmas break loomed on  its horizon. As my sister and her family  went back to China during these periods, I spent Christmas and New Year entirely on my own. I was  presented with rare   luxury of  time abundance and coherence, free from my full-time job or travel.


I decided to set an experiment in motion. If I were free from the conventional nine-to-five structure, what would a lifestyle aligned with my ultimate version actually look like? Could writing, reading, podcasting, and playing the piano—alongside exercise, diet, and sleep—not merely fill my days, but actively steer my pursuit of longevity and vitality?

The outcome was aspirational. I realised that I was not only capable of restructuring my existing systems with agility and intentionality, but also of anchoring myself in frameworks that both protect and elevate my energy and creativity.

I have long been fiercely and passionately tapped into the subjects of habit formation and neuroplasticity—explored extensively across my book and other written pieces. As James Clear articulates, systems, at their core, are collections of habits. Through years of deliberate brain-rewiring practice, I have progressed from building atomic habits, to stacking habits, and eventually weaving them into an integrated system that serves me intellectually, emotionally, and physically.

While I continue to strengthen my ability to master habits—whether introducing minuscule ones for micro-rewards or committing to gigantic behavioural changes —I am equally focused on refining the systems that support my ultimate vision and work best for me. The question now becomes whether I can take this one step further: to become an agile architect of my life, capable of responding fluidly to external change—guided by the principle that my systems should  stretch creativity, expand range, and broaden repertoire, while sustaining a state of groundedness, vibrancy, and fulfilment.

On the last day of 2025, I came across an episode of On Purpose with Jay Shetty. I archived the final segment and held it like a mantra: the universe doesn’t respond to wishful thinking; it responds to clear energy and consistent action. So in 2026, don’t just set goals—design your systems, choose your words, and align with your identity. And always remember: intention and infrastructure.

That ethos also shone through my entire experiment. I was able to iterate my existing  system during that two and half weeks, aligned with my identity, anchor by intention , optimised by attention and supported by infrastructure. I feel compelled to share the granular details of this journey, offering an empirical lens into how epigenetic influences can be leveraged to actively reshape our being and becoming.

 

1: Intention Woven Into the DNA of My System — Guiding How I Structure My Day and Curate My Cultural Diet

I woke up at 8 a.m.—guilty as charged, still not the early bird I wish to be. If you’ve read my book, you’ll know that circadian rhythm was my greatest discovery of 2024, and it now plays a central role in how I structure my days. My cognitive performance peaks in the morning, manifesting in sharper attention and heightened willpower. This is when I prioritise tasks that demand the greatest creative, intellectual, and cognitive load.

With the abundance of discretionary time and a more flexible environment, I began amplifying the power of my circadian rhythm. No longer bound to an office, I choose to walk outdoors, immersing myself in a nearby garden and soaking in the fresh air and forest stillness. It was an intentional allocation of my most productive hours to digest long-form podcast episodes—dense material and intense ideal, the very core of my intellectual pursuit.

Sitting  on top of my peak zone, I was able to  absorb  complex content at my highest capacity, even experiencing fleeting sensations of invincibility: the feeling that I could crack any scientific code or decipher all technical terms.

 

I select episodes with intention, carefully discerning which topics align with the vision of my podcast and my life. I am often drawn to episodes that explore health, design, and personal growth. As I increasingly feature doctors and designers whose voices are shaping the future of longevity and vitality, I am also keen to expand my understanding and deepening my knowledge in relevant fields. As a host, preparation is non-negotiable. For example, when preparing an episode with a doctor, I push myself to reach what I jokingly call a “half doctor–level mindset,” arming myself with medical jargon and acronym, equipping myself with at least a theoretical comprehension of medical concepts.

Yet beneath the complexity, every conversation always returns to a shared and united ethos: helping people live better lives. In that, deep resonance emerges on both a personal and universal level. These aren’t exclusive, high-level elite conversations divorced from reality; the insights shared by doctors are often feasible and straightforward, empowering us to take action and sparking hope.

I also notice overlaps and parallels within or across domains. At the frontier of modern medicine, naturopathic doctors practicing functional medicine and regenerative doctors exploring stem cell therapy are reshaping the future of human health. It is an absolute privilege and honor to hold space for conversations with professionals who bring distinctive yet complementary perspectives toward a shared goal.

Across disciplines, my guest Dr. Mandy underscored benefits of listening to your body, while my another guest, interior designer Olga Naiman, also encourages us in her book to practice the high art of deeply listening to our bodies.

To extend this allocation of time further into my choice of cultural diet—and podcasting itself is very much a form of cultural diet—I must reiterate the importance of intention. Intention embeds itself into one’s system, almost like DNA, determining the essence of the system we build—one that either leads us toward our vision or sends us astray.

We may find ourselves immersing in dense, long-form content that stretches our cognition and intellectual bandwidth,or aimlessly scrolling through social media, at the mercy of random algorithmic feeds and cheap dopamine hits. Clarity and Discernment are the true arbiters here: being clear about what we value most, what truly matters, and discerning whether what we consume aligns with our deeper sense of mattering.

In my book, I explore how cultural diet exerts a subtle yet profound influence on our emotional state. If you are interested , feel free to check more over there.

 

Back to my day in the experiment: as I walked in nature while engaging in cognitively demanding work, I was acutely aware of the paradox it creates. Nature is typically associated with restoration and wellbeing. Dr. Kelly, another guest on my podcast, for instance, recommends turning off your mobile while walking outdoors for its healing benefits. Yet here I am, using nature as infrastructure for intensity and intellectual density. In this context, nature is not an escape or a passive respite; it is a carefully selected environment that enhances my focus, clarity, and depth.

At the same time, I consciously honor the benefits of analogue environments. That is why I deliberately carve out screen-free time, integrating it into my non-negotiable daily workout routine. After every gym session, I walk fifteen minutes through the campus lanes back to the station, completely off-screen. I am rewarded not only by the endorphins released through exercise, but also by a heightened sense of accomplishment and joy by immersion in greenery, light, and the quiet rhythm of movement.


2: Cultivating Exquisite Attention — Shaping Focus and Sustaining Flow Through Reading and Piano

After two hours of intense cognitive work, I return home to read—another almost two hours of  concentrated engagement. By the end of 2025, I finally placed the order for my first Kindle. It coincided with my New Year resolution to read more, quietly marking the inauguration of a new habit. The rest of the day then unfolded with podcast interview preparation, website SEO work, and piano practice, before closing with a gym session.

Yes, piano—another deliberate addition in 2026.

Music has always resonated deeply with since I was a child. it has cast a potent spell across my teens and adulthood. I want to share a particularly intimate moment that traces back to the peak of the pandemic. While playing piano pieces composed by Joe Hisaishi, I was swept into a cascade of delight and uplift. The sensation was fleeting and ephemeral, yet it was permanently archived in my memory. Since then, I have not always had the capacity to continue playing, but there has always been an inner yearning—a quiet pull to relive that visceral feeling.

After reading Mastery by Robert Greene, I became convinced that each of us is fundamentally unique, and that this uniqueness is imprinted in our DNA. Tapping into our primal and natural inclinations reconnects us with our true calling. I am not suggesting that I will become a musician. Rather, what once brought us profound joy may hold the key to a deeply healing and rejuvenation  space.

Both reading and piano once hit my core yet remained dormant parts of me for long. It was not until 2026 that I finally pressed the reset button—not driven by a grand design, but shaped by years of gradual readiness. During this experiment, I managed to integrate reading and piano into my day routine, reshaping my existing system.  

The goal was never to cram more habits into already packed days through brute force. Instead, it was about responding to subtle internal nudges—signals calling for life  addition or subtraction. Beneath this process lies a clear pattern of habit formation grounded in neuroplasticity aka brain-rewiring : the brain’s inherent ability to rewire itself.  For years, I have practiced re-wiring to  deliberately stripped away unwanted patterns, built new habits, and even  made major mental pivot. I’ve  dedicated an entire chapter in my book to unpacking intricate  layers of brain-rewiring  through lived experience- if you are interested, feel free to check in my book. Here are quick review for my rewiring formula,

  1. Identify friction points — Notice moments of resistance and understand why that friction needs to be addressed

  2. Reframe mindset — shift from “I can’t” to “I can.”

  3. Take action — act despite initial discomfort; the first step is always the hardest.

  4. Practice consistency — repetition builds momentum.

  5. Cultivate patience — allow time for feedback loops to form.

     

Finding a strong why—or even a modest one—is the gateway to cracking open the first layer of change.

So why reading and piano?

Apart its from  primal inclination, In recent years, I have been driven to cultivate what I call exquisite attention: an acute awareness of where my focus resides at any given moment, and the capacity to redirect it deliberately. In my another piece — my self-portrait of the dopamine, I revealed an ongoing tug-of-war between my prefrontal cortex and my limbic system—between focus and distraction.

I am capable of entering extended flow states for months at a time, producing podcast episodes or navigating complex renovation projects with discipline and precision. Yet I still find myself derailed by pop-up notifications, random feeds, and dopamine bait. I have not yet mastered exquisite attention. Even well-established habits can fracture, and when attention lapses, the quality of my work inevitably and inherently suffers.

I am increasingly aware of how attention collapse operates within me, at times almost catastrophically. The cognitive cost of context switching is steep. My vulnerability to attention residue is pronounced; once my focus is hijacked, part of it lingers elsewhere, making true re-engagement difficult. Even when I do resume, I suspect the quality of my work is inherently compromised, as my level of concentration has already been dampened.

 

Both reading and piano align with my genetic and primal inclinations—once hit my core yet remain dormant part of me for long.   Beyond that, they function as dual training systems: intellectual training and attentional training.

Reading, by its very nature, remains one of the most timeless and sophisticated ways to acquire knowledge and skill. I want to further illustrate attentional training through piano.

Through my lens, attention is twofold: length and intensity. One determines its range—how long we can remain in the zone—while the other shapes its quality and depth. We strive to extend our attention span to sustain flow, and we aspire to sink into density and mass so our output gains gravity and weight.

While reading or practicing piano, I’ve noticed my attention span can extend to nearly two hours without being easily distracted—underpinned, of course, by infrastructure (yes, the phone must stay aside!). This may not sound remarkable to seasoned masters, but for me, it marks a personal record. Piano, in particular, demands an unforgiving level of attentional intensity. Even a single second of mental wandering or meandering disrupts muscle memory and fractures the entire sequence. As a result, my cognition is trained to focus linearly and relentlessly. This type of training feels almost tailor-made to temper my dopamine-driven temperament—one fueled by constant motion and the primal urges of multitasking lol.

At the same time, piano strengthens my ability to endure boredom and even physical pain—literal figure fatigue from hours of playing lol. I may pin it on my dopamine-driven nature again lol , the old version of myself possessed an extremely low tolerance for tedium, which stifled my creativity and impeded my growth. It was once the greatest barrier on my path to mastery. While I aspire to refine my skills and sharpen my mind, I am simultaneously waging a continuous battle against monotony. Piano challenges my endurance profoundly. Each repeated exercise, each chapter read, subtly enhances my attention along two dimensions—length and intensity—and I am convinced it is expanding both my cognitive and emotional bandwidth on an overarching level as well.

Last but not least, piano also soothes me emotionally. As grueling as the practice can be, music has the power to ground me, spark joy, and restore balance—especially when I finally manage to play a piece fluidly, fully immersed in flow (lol).

 

To offer a follow-up on the status of my new habits after returning to work: as an agile architect of my life, I’ve managed to retain both reading and piano within my structure. I may not spend as many hours on them as I did during the experiment period, but both have endured.

Reading now occupies my commute home after work— almost an hour. That time used to be reserved for podcasts, but by the end of the day my will to digest dense material often falters. A fragmented mind weakens the absorption of highly intense digital content. Switching to reading places me in a better state of focus. It is still long-form content, yet the digital stillness — perhaps the paper-like texture of a Kindle — feels gentler on my nervous system, almost calming in its effect.

Piano, on the other hand, has settled into my evenings. Remarkably, without compressing my workouts or extending my day, I still uncover an extra discretionary hour to practise. This quietly debunks my long-held belief that I simply “don’t have time.” More often, our assumed time deficit is not a true absence, but time diffused — perhaps unconsciously lost to scrolling or diluted attention in both length and intensity.

What truly changed was not the amount of time I have, but my relationship with attention. That is why reading and piano endure — not as hobbies, but as living components of my evolving system.

Ultimately, these practices are about more than skill acquisition. They are about intentionally building a system that aligns with my life vision, underpinned by exquisite attention, thoughtful infrastructure, and the quiet expansion of inner capacity.


3: Infrastructure and Agility — Designing Habits That Adapt, Endure, and Elevate

I want to shine a spotlight on my agile design in my workout routine during this experiment – a key variation, not just an addition, in my system that responds to the nuances of external conditions.

During the holiday break, embellished with Christmas, New Year, and public holidays, empirical experience told me conventional gyms would close. My agile architecture began to take shape through iteration. At first, I succumbed to the environment — I cut myself some slack and skipped exercise. Later, I replaced it with walking, home yoga, or push-ups — my earliest form of agile architecture.

This year, serendipity intervened: prior to holiday I encountered a gym open every day, including Christmas and New Year’s Eve, featuring infrared light benefits. I signed up for a trial session. I never knew exercise could make a person sweat like that lol!  Just  the first time in that steam room, I felt like I had done a detox that could last a lifetime lol. Exercising under 40-degree red lights – having already explored red light therapy while preparing an episode with Dr. Mandy – felt like stepping into a new dimension of my routine. Prior to this, I had been wearing red light masks for a year and was already hooked. Remember, the goal is not just brain neuroplasticity, but also skin elasticity lol.


I was torn between the conventional gym and this infrared gym. Given time and budget constraints, I could only commit to one. What appeared as a barrier – holidays disrupting my routine – opened a window for experimentation. I paused my conventional gym membership during holiday break and signed up for one month at the infrared gym- partly also prompted by high-tech induced novelty lol . I managed to sweat through the entire holiday without missing a single session – even pumped under 40-degree infrared lights on Christmas Eve lol.

This is the essence of being an agile architect: not rigid adherence, but swift, nimble response to conditions. Habit, at its core, is rooted in consistency and reinforced by neurological feedback loops. Yet disruptions are inevitable. Agile architecture allows me to transcend variables, to recalibrate, and sometimes elevate my practice to another tier.


Wearing my agile hat, when a disruption appears, my first inclination now is to find an alternative. That openness often leads me to experience exercise in an entirely new dimension.

Almost an epiphany moment: I see the  habit and environment play in harmony and tension. I always underscore the importance of infrastructure – whether it’s my exposure to nature stimulating cognition, intentionally crafting my analogue  time and space, my 101 rule of “out of sight, out of mind.  It all reveal that : it takes time to build habits, and it takes infrastructure to sustain them. We live in an environment that constantly produces friction and barriers, yet an agile architect is an advanced habit builder – someone able to transcend variables. Change is constant, and agile architecture transforms each disruption from an obstacle into an opportunity for growth.

We don’t become agile architects overnight, in fact, I still feel a bit cringe claiming the title.  But my point is — It starts small — from the very first habit we intentionally build. I believe we naturally progress into becoming agile architects over time.


Here comes a travel anecdote from my stay at Dusit Thani Hotel in Kyoto. I don’t often use hotel gyms — partly because travel itself keeps me moving, sometimes clocking tens of thousands of steps a day, which I consider sufficient compensation for missed workouts. Beyond that, I deliberately deviate from my exercise structure, giving myself slack to fully inhabit and embrace travel mode.

Yet a full brunch at the hotel restaurant reignited my biological need to reclaim energy. The moment I stepped onto the treadmill in the hotel gym, I felt my energy replenished and my sense of agency return — something I realise I need even while traveling LoL. A half-hour run followed by a private yoga session that stretched and reset my entire body that afternoon.

When exercise is ingrained into your DNA, it becomes as inextricable as air or water — woven into your functioning system regardless of occasion, season, or rhythm. I continue to elevate both physical strength and mental fortitude, sustaining my growth  in a dynamic and robust  system.

Another example of this natural progression:

Three years ago, I walked past a Body Pump class thinking, not even in million years would I ever touch that bar lol.Two years ago, I began sporadically lifting weights (very light lol). A year ago, Body Pump once a week became non-negotiable.This year, I’ve doubled down on strength training twice a week (still light, but better).

My fitness goals evolve as my awareness deepens —it’s the strength reshapes our future health lol. I am aiming for a leaner (not thinner), denser body composition. I strive for body strength that goes hand in hand with mental fortitude.

Almost coming full circle, I should share that I actually returned to my conventional gym after the infrared experiment ended. While infrared saved commute time and offered red-light benefits, I found myself missing my analogue commute — those moments bathing in nature. I also missed the element of human connection: the instructor–peer dynamic versus Infrared sessions were delivered  by recorded videos without a live instructor.

And that, in itself, is also part of being an agile architect — you experiment, you recalibrate, and you pick what truly sustains you. Beyond this experiment, I take objective distance to audit my habit collection annually – and I genuinely feel I consistently outgrow myself lol.


 

Chapter 3: Living as a Life Designer—Integration, Agility, and Embodied Action


As my holiday experiment drew to a close, a subtle yet profound insight crystallized: life design is not a static achievement, but a dynamic dance between intention, attention, and adaptability. Systems, habits, and infrastructure matter—but their true potency emerges when guided by vision, values, and the clarity of one’s identity. This realization is simultaneously humbling and empowering.

Throughout this journey, I’ve observed the interplay of three pillars that now define my life: intellectuality, beauty, and connection. Intellectuality sharpens my mind, directing attention and deepening understanding; beauty enriches the soul, shaping perception and nurturing creativity; connection sustains humanity, grounding me in empathy and shared experience. Each pillar informs the other, creating a compound effect that enhances both the quality and depth of existence.

Epigenetics, once an abstract scientific term, now resonates in lived experience. I am no longer a passive observer of my genetic blueprint; I am an active co-author, carefully shaping the trajectory of my own life. Through attention cultivation, environmental design, intentional cultural diet, and deliberate practice, I continuously expand my epigenetic bandwidth—cognitively, emotionally, and physically. This is not merely personal ambition, but a conscious commitment to embody the highest version of myself.

And yet, even as I refine systems and orchestrate daily rhythms, life reminds me of its unpredictability. Agility becomes not optional but essential. The world will shift, circumstances will evolve, and challenges will arise. What remains under my control is my response: the clarity of purpose, the integrity of action, and the unwavering protection of identity.

In the quiet moments—walking through gardens, playing the piano, reading long-form texts, or simply being present—I am reminded that life design is ultimately about presence, intentionality, and courage. To design a life aligned with vision, values, and identity is to honor our finite time and infinite potential. It is to transform ephemeral hours into enduring meaning, fleeting moments into lasting impact.

So, how do I want to live my life? I want to live deliberately, fully, and with an unshakable commitment to growth, beauty, and connection. I want to protect my identity, cultivate exquisite attention, and expand my capacity to contribute. I want to approach each day as an experiment, a canvas, and an opportunity to embody the life I have consciously chosen.

And as I close this chapter, I extend the question to you, the readers and listeners: How do you want to live your life? What identity do you wish to protect, What pillars do you wish to build upon, and What systems will you construct to honor your ultimate vision? The answers are yours to uncover, but the invitation is universal: life will not wait, and the time to design it is now.

 

Timestamps


0:00 – 19:05 | Chapter 1: My Blueprint of Being a Life Designer


Genetic or Epigenetic—My Verdict is, and Always Will Be Epigenetic

I reflect on the debate between genetics and epigenetics. Growing up in a rigid academic system, early struggles with mathematics shaped my sense of natural limits. Instead of seeing genetics as destiny, epigenetics offers a more empowering view: acknowledging innate wiring while intentionally focusing on areas that align with strengths and curiosity.


How I Want to Live my Life – Unequivocal Clarity Through reflection, I arrived at a clear vision inspired by 君たちはどう生きるか. I imagine a life immersed in reading, writing, piano, exercise, and creative work, close to nature, focused on longevity, vitality, intellectual depth, and aesthetic experience.


Why Intellectuality, Beauty, and Connection Intellectuality fuels thinking, writing, and podcasting. Beauty shapes perception through architecture and design. Connection ties these pursuits together, fostering meaningful conversations and reinforcing both ideas and human resonance.


Aligning My System with Vision, Values, and Identity I built a life-design formula of habits, attention training, brain rewiring, and environment—guided by vision, values, and identity. Daily practices like exercise, reading, writing, and creative work serve my ultimate goals, while values are reflected in how I allocate time, energy, and resources.


Identity At the Core Identity emerges through self-deconstruction and deliberate reconstruction. Defined by chosen qualities—gravitas, composure, self-agency—it anchors every system and decision in my life.


19:05 – 43:58 | Chapter 2: A New Experiment Inaugurated — Becoming an Agile Architect of Life

During the Christmas and New Year break, I ran a personal experiment: freed from a nine-to-five schedule, how would my ideal life look? Over two and a half weeks, I tested whether my systems—formed through years of habit and brain rewiring—could support reading, writing, podcasting, piano, exercise, and intentional cultural consumption.


Intention Woven Into the DNA of My System — Guiding How I Structure My Day and Curate My Cultural DietIntention shapes daily architecture. Morning peak hours go to deep intellectual engagement, often with long-form podcasts during walks. My “cultural diet” ensures the ideas and media I consume align with my intellectual and creative goals, avoiding algorithm-driven distraction.


Cultivating Exquisite Attention — Shaping Focus and Sustaining Flow Through Reading and Piano Reading and piano serve as dual attention training: reading stretches comprehension, piano demands sustained focus. Together, they cultivate “exquisite attention,” strengthening concentration while counteracting modern dopamine-driven distraction.


Infrastructure and Agility — Designing Habits That Adapt, Endure, and Elevate Environmental infrastructure supports habits. Experimenting with an infrared gym during a routine disruption highlighted the need for agile systems—adapting environments, tools, and structures to maintain consistency while evolving.


43:58 – 47:43 | Chapter 3: Living as a Life Designer—Integration, Agility, and Embodied Action


The experiment revealed that life design is dynamic, shaped by intention, attention, and adaptability. Intellectuality sharpens thought, beauty enriches perception, and connection grounds life in shared humanity. These pillars reinforce each other across daily and long-term practices.

Epigenetics becomes tangible: by shaping habits, environment, cultural input, and attention, I actively design my trajectory. Living as a life designer means embracing life as an ongoing experiment—protecting identity, refining systems, and responding to change with agility. Each day is a canvas where vision, values, and identity translate into action.

And so the question remains open—not just for me, but for anyone listening:


How do you want to live your life?

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page