My Self-Portrait of Dopamine

Survive in Innate Duality and Thrive in Inherent Paradox

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Suffice to say, my intrinsically motivated nature can be traced back prior to my so-called passion pursuit journey (unveiled five years ago). This peculiar trait has consistently manifested—and only amplified—throughout my creative journey, culminating in the becoming of my project-based lifestyle.

The keyword dopamine inaugurated my writing bug—I began to weave in essential elements like exquisite attention and brain rewiring into the fabric of my dopamine-driven being, which also aligns seamlessly with my 2025 theme of refinement. This convergence has launched me onto a writing journey that may well become one of the most profound acts of self-reflection I’ve ever undertaken—an intimate exploration of how an individual powered by dopamine survives in duality and thrives in paradox.

Just one caveat: this isn’t a manifesto to pitch my “drive” as superior. Part of it is genetic—at some level, we may all surrender to our factory settings, lol. As I’ve said before, whatever gets you out of bed each morning is valid and uniquely yours.

Dopamine, by definition, is a neurotransmitter—a chemical messenger in the brain. It plays a central role in motivation, anticipation, learning, and reward-seeking behavior—not merely pleasure.

Our desires, our very wanting, are fundamentally governed by the dopamine system. This explains why I simply can’t cease to create—It’s inherently wired in me. I rarely deliver a verdict upfront, but here it is: Yes, I am addicted to dopamine. Or, to put it more poetically—I am a dopamine-driven soul and mind. lol

While these days society tends to demonize the word “addiction,” I feel a hint of urgency to unpack and justify my addiction, lol—the nuance of my dopamine type.

Here is my trait profile, shaped and refined over years of relentless, persistent passion pursuit:

• I seek long-term creative fulfillment, transcending instant yet fleeting gratification.

• I associate effortful processes—research, writing, design, editing—with deep emotional and intellectual reward.

• I delay reward, finding genuine satisfaction in the pursuit itself, rather than in external validation.

This unravels my baffling: My voluntary pursuit across various creative arenas—podcasting, interior design, and writing- is tied to a primal inclination, largely untouched by external forces and conditions.

As my dopamine system genuinely appreciates hidden dividends: The pure joy gained in emotional expansion, intellectual rigor and wit, aesthetic refinement, The sense of fulfillment found in personal growth and character building—All in service of my deep desire to craft a life journey towards mastery and radiance.

Chapter 1: Surviving in Innate Duality — Cultivating Exquisite Attention

So I guess it’s safe to say—my addiction isn’t that toxic, is it? I've evolved into a highly self-motivated person, structured in discipline, driven by depth and meaning. Yet, I still find myself stuck in a standoff—a duality I carry within.

My years of commitment to passion projects are proof of my ability to pursue deep, delayed dopamine rather than succumb to frivolous, instant hits. And still, meandering ideas and intrusive thoughts may invade my headspace unexpectedly.

I can enter flow states and hyper-focus for months and years—on projects of making a podcast episode or home renovation . I always hold myself accountable, pulling off results that align with my values, intentions, and aesthetics. And yet, I still constantly get distracted by pop-up messages. I still get derailed by random feeds and dopamine bait sporadically. I still haven’t cultivated exquisite attention—I haven’t mastered my time and energy.

Upon some research, here’s what I’ve come to realize: This duality I embody isn’t a character flaw or some dysfunction of the brain. It’s the other side of two-sided coins lying in my dopamine nature—dopamine isn’t just about long-term goals or deep meaning—it’s fundamentally about seeking. Even though I’ve refined my dopamine system toward long-term reward, the original wiring for novelty still lingers.

I channel my intentionality to stay in long-term pursuits—but it doesn’t cancel my underlying biological wiring. As a result, my yearning for deep meaning constantly collides with a craving for micro-stimulation. Living in a hyper-stimulating world, I’ve waged a nonstop battle between focus and distraction.

Do I stand a chance in this tug of war? My verdict is: Yes.

My key defence manoeuvre in this battle is aligning my circadian rhythm with my time and energy management. Last year in 2024, the discovery of circadian rhythm catapulted me to a new chapter of my life—as I began aligning it with my peak performance time—those crucial hours I fiercely protect to focus on my priority tasks.

I learned to discriminate the quality of time and curate my day accordingly. There are at least four to five golden hours (still extending, I believe) in the morning when my brain runs like a supercomputer—operating at peak cognition, with heightened willpower and sharpened attention.

Over time, I evolved from simply managing time to managing energy.Time may be equal in length, but not in quality.This realization revealed a hierarchy in how I structure my days. When I align my highest-quality time with my top priority tasks, I am more equipped to produce the best possible results, with the potential for an even elevated finishing touch.

I adopted the blocking technique to guard that peak window, devoting it exclusively to intellectually demanding or deeply creative tasks, like writing, researching, or complex reading. During that window, I’m a roaring engine, fueled by dopamine, racing towards hard-won victories.

2025, themed as my year of refinement—ushered  under my deep ambition to achieve mastery (master both my mind and skill). What once appeared to be trivial distractions or minor friction became less acceptable and tolerable. As tensions with distraction grew pronounced, the cultivation of exquisite attention—aligned with my ambition—rose to be a priority.

Exquisite attention—being aware of where my attention is at any given moment and redirecting it to where it’s supposed to be.

I began to ponder questions:

• If I could undo every instance when my mindfulness was compromised by distraction, how would the compound effect unfold over time?

• If I intervened early each time my attention slipped into fleeting moments of chaos, how would the ripple effect spread across different facets of my life?

Upon the poignant realization that I am not immune to distraction—my biology, so to speak, and even inertia—I’ve come to terms with the fact that deliberate action targeting my weaknesses is required. Since the core issue isn’t my inability to concentrate, my go-to strategy remains simple: craft a physical environment that intercepts distraction—nip the source of distraction in the bud.

Here are tricks and tips that work for me:

• Keep my phone away or turn off notifications—out of sight, out of mind.

Still, when prevention or early intervention fails, I may slip into a defeated state, where random feeds infiltrate my mindfulness or negative thought loops in my head. In those moments, I practice self-compassion—let go of perfection and allow myself to feel deflated and drained for a second. The key is to bring my focus back nimbly and swiftly. I will intentionally monitor my progress—each time I manage to pull myself out of that spiral a bit faster, even just a few seconds, I will take a mental note and celebrate it.

My last resort may not sound ideal. I fall back on sheer willpower—no sugarcoating, no self-cuddling, yet mere arbitrary and savage enforcement. I used that tactic to carve out a new analog space and time for myself—which I consider a pivotal moment in my resolve to achieve exquisite attention.

Every night, I head to my gym located on a university campus. It's a 45-minute session—already elevated to a non-negotiable part of my life. After the workout, I walk about 15 minutes to the station. On my way, post-workout and completely unplugged for 45 minutes, I—at the mercy of old rewiring—often react by reaching for my phone immediately.

But one day, I said to myself: enough is enough. Today is the day. No phone until I arrive at the station.

I then reclaim the most profound 15 minutes of my day. Walking through a path embellished with celestial lighting and abundant nature, I fully embrace the architectural appeal and inner grandeur the campus exudes. It whisks me into a primitive living form—feeling nothing short of restoratiion and rejuvenation. The sense of accomplishment from the workout further amplifies and elevates into a radiant state—one detached from civilization (no noise, no content, off the grid), arising from emotion, nature, and presence.

By the time I arrive at the station and merge with the crowd, I’ll likely check my phone again. And yet, I still consider this a major milestone in my attention movement. While this willpower-contingent approach may lack a sturdy anchor—easily wobbles due to the daily supply of self-control (a resource I consider depletable yet renewable)—it is nonetheless backed by neuroscience: the widely cited finding that it takes 21 days to form a new habit.

This explains why an act of self-coercion can lead to new habit formation. It hits me that if we invoke a healthy dose of forceful discipline—gently and within the realm of reasonable—there’s always room for progress. By the end of the day, my mental reserves are often depleted, leaving me just enough to power me through those off-screen 15 minutes. Research shows it takes 21 days to formulate a new habit. Once I break through the 21-day threshold, what once felt like a friction-filled act begins to integrate into my routine.

Refinement indeed shines through my 2025. My goal remains aspirational and sweeping, but my approach has shifted—I now focus on fine-tuning details and targeting small areas for micro-rewards. This is how I leverage my dopamine-driven nature: channeling anticipation and believing in the power of compound effects, the quiet momentum that sustains the longevity and vitality of my most ambitious pursuits.

Since I set my heart on attaining exquisite attention, it is also inextricably tied to my cultural diet—with its subtle yet profound effects on my state of mind.

The choices I make in what I consume may not reveal their ramifications in that moment, yet their compound effect becomes internalized over time—shaping my cognition and emotions. My cultural diet, in essence, largely determines whether I can attain that elevated state of focus.

To align with such an unequivocal yet formidable goal, discernment is a prerequisite in developing my cultural diet recipe. The more strictly we scrutinize and censor our inputs, the more likely we are to shield ourselves from content that doesn’t serve us.

Discernment becomes increasingly crucial in the proliferation of social media, where a plethora of information and resources is just a swipe away. In each moment of prevailing over temptation, we’re strengthening our discerning muscle. Over time, we may find ourselves evolving into culture snobs with sophisticated palates and refined instincts. We transcend passive consumption and begin curating our cultural diet.

Alongside this, we evolve to almost feeling physiologically repelled by content that no longer resonates with our intentions, energy, and emotions.

In my recipe, podcasts remain a staple—deeply aligned with my core pursuits. Listening to a curated playlist of podcast episodes is non-negotiable, often timed to coincide with my peak performance windows.

My cultural diet is also complemented by peripheral choices linked to another passion of mine: interior design, or art in its overarching sense.

The tricky part, I believe, lies in the seemingly trivial scrolling brought on by novelty or tedium. The top-of-mind culprit we all may conjure up is social media, lol.

Just to be clear—I’m no opponent of social media. As a content creator, I often take cues or inspiration from Instagram posts or YouTube videos. Casual scrolling for a fleeting escape or light entertainment has its merits, through my lens. If a quick click on a cat video cracks me up, or liking a friend’s highlight lifts me up, it can serve as a catalyst—pulling me out of an afternoon slump or momentary fatigue.

To leverage social media to my advantage, the key is tied back to exercising discernment over which accounts I follow and strictly adhering to the timeframes I designate for checking posts.

Social media arguably still remains the most vulnerable terrain when it comes to the lure of a quick dopamine fix. Each time temptation takes precedence over intention, our attention isn’t just hijacked—it may further escalate into prolonged emotional spirals.

Here’s a trick I use: Every time I feel the urge to click on something, I ask myself: Does this serve me energetically, creatively, emotionally, and intellectually? If the answer is no, I take it as a temporary setback—yet reframe it as a precursor to recalibration, stepping into phase two of my reclaiming-attention plan: redirecting my focus back to where it’s meant to be.

Crafting exquisite attention is no small feat, hands down. Dancing between the constant push-and-pull of distraction and redirection, I occasionally falter in my resolve, feeling depleted and defeated.

How come a highly disciplined individual with hyper-focus still isn’t fully immune to distraction? Yet these days, I begin to sense subtle progress—what I refer to as my refinement touch- shining through in each small win as I intercept distraction or intervene in a downward spiral.

As a result, not only do I elevate my zone state in both duration and quality, but I also enhance my ability to restore and repair my attention. My determination to acquire exquisite attention may very well carve out a path for a dopamine-driven character like me to not only survive in duality but thrive in paradox.

This provides a great segue into Chapter Two—I may be hyper-creative in realms that land on my radar, embracing a multitude of expressive outlets like podcasting, interior design, and writing—yet I remain in pursuit of the missing pieces that could bridge my creative affinity with true mastery.

Chapter 2: Unlocking the Brain’s Potential — The Power of Brain Rewiring 

In this part, I will tap into the most intricate design—the human brain—at the intersection of dopamine, brain rewiring, and behavior change.

For a long while, I functioned heavily relying on my penchant and inclinations. Yet, my life was full of friction and resistance, living in paradox and conflict. I caved to instant gratification at times and faltered when willpower ran low. My factory settings alone—cognition and execution wired within—only got me this far, and I wasn’t even scratching the surface of my brain’s potential.

A revolution finally emerged when I began intentionally rewiring my brain. In my book, I’ve dedicated an entire chapter to the fascinating concept of brain rewiring—aka neuroplasticity—which suggests our innate ability to fundamentally rewire our brains: reframing our mindset, reshaping our actions, and ultimately rewriting our stories.

At the core of brain rewiring is engaging the prefrontal cortex (PFC). The PFC is known as the brain’s executive center, responsible for high-level cognition, rational thinking, decision-making, emotional regulation, and impulse control. The limbic system, in contrast, is impulsive, emotional, and driven by immediate rewards. In Chapter 1, I described my constant tug of war between attention and distraction, which essentially boils down to a battle between the PFC and the limbic system.

Dopamine, at its core, is about seeking and motivation. When it activates the limbic system, it often triggers the desire for immediate or instant rewards. When it reaches the prefrontal cortex (PFC), it supports long-term goal pursuit—a process that can still feel more natural and automatic if the pursuit aligns with our genetic wiring.

However, as my dopamine profile reveals, the core of my challenge doesn’t lie in my drive for long-term rewards, but rather in my surrender to blank spots.

Brain rewiring involves engaging the PFC to override old wiring and form new neural pathways. Though my understanding of psychology and neuroscience remains surface-level, it is through experience and commitment to brain rewiring that I’ve begun to unlock my brain’s potential.

I’ve evolved to reshape my dopamine system to operate through effortful processes rather than relying solely on effortless pathways. I’ll illustrate this with real-life examples shortly, but to give you a quick snapshot, here’s how I perceive brain rewiring works in practice:

In a more effortful process—where dopamine meets intentional brain rewiring—even when dopamine levels are initially low or deficient, I actively engage my prefrontal cortex (PFC) to seek a reason, a “prompt.” That prompt—no matter how small—sparks even a slight dose of dopamine, drives the first action. Once I leap into action, dopamine is released as a reward, reinforcing the new behavior and establishing a positive feedback loop.

It may sound like a broken record, but I am, at my core, intrinsically motivated. And yet, to paint the full picture, the downside of such internal drive often renders me blind to what lies outside my radar, making me susceptible to tedium and boredom.

This so-called ‘make me’ trait can mutate into a ‘break me’ one, especially as I evolve. I’ve found myself stagnating, trapped in a murky middle ground where clarity and precision elude me. There’s a fine line between being inherently creative and emoting through everything—an impulse that, if left unchecked, can descend into a nonchalant or even perfunctory way of engaging with life.

At the root of this mutation lies my own creative paradox. Despite living a life steeped in purpose, I still remain distant from my enduring aspiration of attaining true mastery in any form—taking skill-building as an example. I have a tendency to fast-track mastery by skipping foundational steps or bypassing the groundwork, a pattern that has existed since childhood. I often flip the ‘bottom-up’ approach and reverse learning sequences, attempting to leap to the top of the pyramid without laying the necessary foundation. This may be tied to my interest-driven nature, which, at the other end of the spectrum, causes me to repel the basics or easier parts.

However, the dilemma here—and not to sell myself short—is that I’m not gifted in pure intellect. Aptitude-wise, my natural talent isn’t enough to master any domain of expertise without adhering to a step-by-step, layer-by-layer process. As a result, what I seem to grasp and digest remains flimsy and untenable without sturdiness.

Upon reading Mastery by Robert Greene, I began to further debunk the myth of my inexplicable eagerness to enter the cycle of accelerated returns—the profound joy and pleasure derived from a high level of skill and knowledge acquisition. The book reveals a key element involved in the initial stages of any new learning: tedium. To naturally progress toward accelerated returns, we must develop the ability to endure and embrace the pain and boredom that come with tedium—an ability that has eluded me.

Yet, there’s a silver lining. We dopamine-driven folks are roaring engines, never running out of fuel. By harnessing such consistent energy, I am able to endure certain  levels of physical training—exhibit A: strict adherence to my gruelling workout regimen. I am also pursuing the type of hard-earned dopamine—exhibit B: channeling my creativity to produce content with substance, depth, and aesthetic radiance.

In general, formulating a goal or executing on it has never been my central problem; the heart of the issue lies in its quality—lacking refinement.

Dopamine-driven creatures may not hinge on external validation, but we are ruthless critics of our own work—not out of perfectionism, but a need for alignment and emotional resonance with our output.

I set very high standards for myself, and holding myself accountable is the only way to live up to my truth. It took me over 30 years to reach this reckoning: if I keep bypassing blind spots or ignoring inner friction—simply at the mercy of my dopamine nature, narrowing my focus to only what naturally stimulates me—I will never achieve my goal of mastery.

That reckoning catapulted me into a brand-new chapter of my life—my brain-rewiring era—where old wiring meets new. Since then, I’ve embarked on what I now call my Alchemy Journey, where apprenticeship is the first stage towards mastery. It’s the most tedious path I’ve chosen—one that stands in stark contrast to the shortcuts and shorthand the old version of me often leaned on, even subconsciously.

Here is one of my living examples, which I consider the pinnacle of rewiring. After three years of relentless creative pursuit, my resolve to elevate my podcast reached absolute conviction, fully aligned with my core passion. A pivotal rewiring moment finally emerged, rising above years of flimsy execution that only led to untenable skills and vague comprehension.

The tension between my reality and vision mounted until it finally ignited me to take action—I signed up for one-on-one sessions with a linguistics professional, dissecting every word I had habitually mispronounced for over 20 years and reconstructing my entire pronunciation system from scratch. To spoil the result of rewiring—I have perpetually flipped my habitual loop: from being appallingly oblivious to mispronunciations to becoming excessively mindful of the accuracy of each word (though not in pursuit of perfection).

Why pronunciation? It’s tied to my deeper passion—crafting authentic and compelling storytelling with depth and meaning. It’s the underlying drive that helps me find my strong why, moving the needle toward my significant rewiring.

My strong why transcends merely enhancing my skill. While embracing my inner calling sets me up for a podcast journey (my empathy, compassion, and sensibility in human connection appear to be inherent), pronunciation stands out as a technical barrier at odds with my strong why.

My language, limited in sophistication and far from mastery, along with a lack of precision and refinement in my pronunciation, diminishes my articulation and eloquence—creating a barrier to producing in-depth, high-quality content. Potentially, it may undermine emotional resonance with my guests and audience.

Podcasting, in its essence, is a container of humility and grace—untouched by rigid rules and structures, rooted in shared and distinctive human experiences. However, in its form, it remains an art of communication, shaped by lexicon and rhetoric.

I can only live each day to the fullest, striving to touch on the rich layers of humanity. Yet, I can’t continue to bury my head in the sand, dismissing my pain point as if it were just a trivial matter unworthy of my intention and refinement. Pronunciation became the conspicuous starting point of my rewiring—not just a skill, but a gateway to mastering my craft.

Truth be told—rewiring the brain is no small feat. Chronologically speaking, brain rewiring—in this example—took decades to surface and strengthen, which in turn reactivated my dopamine system to form sustainable momentum.

The result was immensely rewarding—bringing about radical shifts in my behaviors. I flipped my approach to the opposite extreme: pausing on each word and drilling its pronunciation relentlessly. The process was daunting—grueling, even—especially in the first year. I would pause on every single word, break it down syllable by syllable, aiming for clarity and accuracy. It was mentally excruciating, even debilitating. The natural human forgetfulness curve doubled the pain: I’d get stuck on the same words, checking their pronunciation over 100 times, to the point where the cycle of check, forget, and check again felt mechanical and mind-numbing. At some point, I even joked to myself: probably in the final moments of my life, I’ll still be mumbling about the pronunciation of certain words—LOL.

The key is to fully internalize my strong why—which was never about speaking like a native or the language itself but tied instead to my underlying passion for mastery of my craft. In my experience, when this ‘why’ stays on the surface, its effect on rewiring often fades over time. However, when a strong ‘why’ is tied to our values and the intentionality behind how we live, it becomes a catalyst for lasting change—aka sustained rewiring.

I also want to share a trick for sustaining brain rewiring—building on what I mentioned in Chapter 1 about how it takes around 21 days to form a new habit. Obviously, retaining new behavioral changes brought by brain rewiring takes much longer. After all, rewiring is an effortful, deliberate process, unlike internal makeup or automatic reflexes.

One strategy that has worked well for me is letting others hold me accountable. For example, I openly share many of my practices and mindset in my book—like habit stacking—or  here in Chapter 1, where I shared how I attain 15 minutes of off-screen, analog time after the gym. The truth is that my limbic system still sometimes urges me to check my phone on the way to the station. There are moments I almost falter. But by sharing my story and progress publicly, I add fuels to my accountability, anchoring my re-wring. The truth is, even if no one reads my book or article, once I put my words out there, oddly yet powerfully, I feel the need to live up to them.

Even just now, working on this piece where I made such a strong proclamation about cultivating exquisite attention, every time I feel the urge to scroll my phone, I’m more likely to curb that boredom-induced impulse and gently bring my focus back.  Accountably holding by others strengthens my prefrontal cortex ability , giving me the upper hand in the ongoing match against my limbic system.

I can now say with confidence that most of my rewiring and behavioral changes will remain perpetual.

To this day, the ripple effect of brain rewiring has extended into various facets of my life—my diet, exercise, personal growth, and professional development—eventually reshaping my lifestyle and pursuit. 

That’s the beauty of rewiring: it’s not isolated or singular. If you rebuild your discipline for a new workout regimen, the chance is that you extend that similar level of intentionality and standard into a creative project, so to speak.

I may not be able to fully delineate how intricate neurochemical and psychological forces interplay —but I believe it’s worth experimenting with. The effects often reveal and unfold themselves in subtle, profound ways over time.

Here is another example of how I embedded Body Pump into my weekly workout mix through brain rewiring:

At first, I only signed up for Zumba, which fell neatly into my interest zone and evoked pure joy, so it easily integrated into my early workout routine. Every time I walked past the Body Pump room (right next to Zumba), I felt intimidated by the effort it took just to assemble the gear. Weightlifting, of course, wasn’t remotely as appealing as cardio Zumba, flowing to exotic and uplifting music in the background.

Ignorance often stands as the first layer that blinds us. As I continued to expose myself to the realm of fitness and wellness , new awareness began to prevail over my preconceived notions. That’s when I reevaluated my relationship with strength training.

Instead of relying on sheer willpower to catapult myself into Body Pump classes (as much as I wished I could), a subtle rewiring began. I consciously acknowledged the undeniable fact that weight training was a game-changer and started digging into the strong why behind any behavioral change before pushing forward. As much as I enjoyed Zumba, my ultimate goal was never to become a dancer but to achieve optimal fitness. (In fact, my strong why has since evolved into buying myself more time to achieve my deepest desire at this stage of my life—mastery.) Eventually, I made it to my first Body Pump session—though the first attempt was propelled more by brute force and self-coercion than anything else.

What followed was a tug-of-war between extreme discomfort and an underlying drive. By identifying my strong why, I gained the upper hand and made it to my second, then third, Body Pump class. Consistency slowly began to build. Over time, compatibility and harmony took precedence over friction and resistance, and I rewrote my relationship with Body Pump entirely.

Even to this day, do I love Body Pump purely for fun? Not yet. To be honest, every time I head to a Body Pump class, it feels like stepping onto a battlefield as a warrior—it’s really bloody hard. Will it ever be effortless? I seriously doubt it. But is the act of Body Pump sustained? I can say yes with absolute conviction.

Despite Body Pump already being ingrained in me as part of my new wiring, the battle never ceases. Especially on days when terrible weather raises the challenge—cold, dark, and compounded by drained energy after a long day.

Yet by this point, I’ve trained myself to leverage dopamine through anticipation. Despite all the foreseeable friction, I know that once I step out the door, the hardest part is already behind me.

By the end of the session, I always get an extra dopamine reward. But make no mistake—the mental tug-of-war between my prefrontal cortex and limbic system is fierce. I’ve even secretly prayed for a thunderstorm to knock out my access to the gym completely.

Still, my prefrontal cortex steps in to remind me why I should stick to the workout—for the long-term benefit. And most importantly, the strongest catalyst in that moment is the anticipation of regret. I know that if I skip the session, the sense of defeat will eat me alive later. The anguish of surrender would far outweigh the strain of enduring a vigorous Body Pump session.

That’s my take on brain rewiring—particularly on what sustained rewiring looks like. It’s painstaking, but absolutely within reach. Any rewiring is brutal at first, but once the loop is reinforced—through anticipation, action, and reward—it will feel like second nature over time.

And yes, here is my final verdict—brain rewiring is possible—which leads me into my final chapter:

Final Chapter: Thriving in Inherent Paradox — Seizing Dopamine’s Glimmer of Hope

At this stage of my journey, I have fully embraced the power of rewiring, and its ripple effect has manifested in all areas of life. I hence enter what I call my 2.0 Rewiring Era.

This new era is marked by my intentional shift to address small friction points and a deliberate focus on micro-leaps.

In fact, that’s how I began my rewiring journey — start small: pick up one thing I feel a gentle reluctance or resistance to do. Stay within that discomfort for a moment and see if I can find a cue or prompt (if not a strong and deep ‘why’) to nudge my first action. The rest is simply repetition until the behavior becomes a new pattern and default embedded in me.

The prompt can be something as trivial as a visual or physical cue — anything that elicits even a flicker of dopamine: curiosity, novelty, wondering. Don’t let it fleetingly pass through your mind. Seize it and act on it.

The key here is:Act on the prompt.

I once got a prompt from listening to a podcast episode — a lengthy, intense interview with a doctor. Though I didn’t retain eidetic memories of the entire episode, one takeaway stayed with me: “Greek yogurt contains ample protein; eat it more.”

That single message imprinted itself in my mind—and it prompted me to go out and get yogurt in that moment. Since then, Greek yogurt has become a regular part of my diet. What once felt like a deviation of my diet is now just a part of my norm (lol).

It also echoed something I’ve long advocated in my approach to cultivating a cultural diet: How does it serve me, and what direct impact does it have on my life- Without application, it’s merely entertaining. (Not that I’m dismissing pure fun or diminishing the hidden dividends in the long haul—I'm all for that.)

I once came across this message: It doesn’t matter if you read a million books or one book; what truly matters is that even if you read just one, you apply it to a specific aspect of your own unique circumstance.

By holding onto the principle of acting on the prompt, I walked away from that podcast episode with tangible value. It underscores the core of any brain-rewiring process—it has to land in action. That’s what drives behavioral change.

I feel compelled to reiterate the importance of continually enhancing our prefrontal cortex (PFC) function—essentially elevating the quality of our cognition— our ability to see through the nature of a matter. This requires ample curiosity and relentless learning, rooted in the alchemical journey I have set myself upon.

The PFC and brain rewiring go hand in hand. We have thousands of thoughts crossing our minds every day, yet we operate with limited time and energy—not to mention the cost of opportunity. What we choose to act on requires discernment, and fundamentally, it should align with our lifestyle and values. (That’s a much bigger topic—maybe for another piece of writing.) But here, at least, it’s harmless—to eat more Greek yogurt, right? lol

That epiphany moment hit me: a strong “why” may take years to emerge and consolidate—but a cue is omnipresent, and it can be turned into action—effective immediately. The key is to detect what prompts us—and then act on it.

Major leaps also didn’t happen overnight. They often start with small leads — something doable and attainable. I encourage everyone to start small. If you haven’t yet found what fuels you for life, just start with what prompts you in the moment.

That’s how I accumulated each successful rewiring — not only leading to external rewards but also strengthening emotional resilience and brain agility, fueling the next rewire. Of course, there were times when I made the first leap but failed to sustain it. In hindsight, I realised that even a failed attempt to rewire may still subtly enhance confidence. As I gradually built that confidence, I became more equipped to make moderate — or even major — leaps. From my bump story to pronunciation breakthroughs, each one added up.

To this day, I guess I could compile a list of my rewiring—big or small: adding broccoli to every meal; writing a book; solo traveling to the most secluded areas in Japan—all culminating in my multi-year home project venture. I have conquered many things I once perceived as unlikely or impossible.

Now I feel I’ve come full circle—returning to the beginning once again. You might think I’ve reached the pinnacle of my rewiring journey, but in truth, it’s quite the opposite. I still feel stuck in several major areas: my career pivot, mastery of a domain, and my long-held desire to become a mother. I’ve been locked in a stagnant state for so long—yet I’ve sensed a glimmer of hope in the face of these seemingly insurmountable stalemate.

The way forward, it seems, is to return to the small.

This isn’t regression. It’s an intuitive—yet intentional—realignment with my evolving path, in keeping with the theme of my “refinement year.” It’s about refining both my approaches and my mindset, at both the overarching and granular levels.

As I’ve shared in earlier chapters, I’ve been evolving to strive for exquisite attention—to survive in my duality, to endure the apprenticeship towards mastery —to thrive in my paradox.

And perhaps, this very path of refinement may lead to the ultimate breakthrough I’ve been seeking.

So here’s my final advice for brain rewiring:

• If you’re just beginning for change — start small.

• If you’re already deep in or feel stuck — refine small.

Every day now, I train my brain to scan for any subtle or pronounced prompt that might ignite a new action. It’s not about cramming more into an already packed day or about achieving more. In fact, as a dopamine-driven person, I’m often hyper-aware of not burning myself out. Instead, I’ve integrated more acts of self-care into my rhythm—infusing stillness and slowness into dopamine’s hustle and grind lol.

Here are some of my recent refinements: I now follow what I call the “three-second rule” for decluttering — anything that can be tidied in under three seconds, I do it immediately. No buildup, no procrastination. Extra bonus? I’ve noticed my weekend cleaning time has decreased. In fact, every time I declutter, I get a quick dopamine rush as a reward. I’m compounding micro-rewards for spatial alchemy—a fascinating book title I came across by interior designer Olga Naiman.

Living a creative paradox, my heart still pounds for the grand vision, but my eyes are learning to land on the Miscellaneous (for lack of a better word lol)—the meaningful small moves that shape the bigger picture.

I now also schedule my weekends around relaxed or fun activities. Not long ago, my life was scheduled to the minute—working in an office by day, switching gears to creative projects at night, hitting the gym daily, and jetting off to Tokyo for respite.

I’ve extended my carved-out leisure time beyond just travel—into every weekend. Whether it’s a movie, an exhibition, or a cultural experience—even just a fleeting moment of comfort—I self-indulge.

The truth is, I’ll always have projects in the pipeline, tirelessly moving from one to the next. But I’ve come to believe that every day deserves a dose of stimulation—the kind sparks pure joy. I may be hard-wired for hard-won victories, but I no longer feel the need to earn every minute of my happiness. This mindset shift has opened me up to the full spectrum of experience and emotion.

And here comes my latest knack- from habit stacking to motivation stacking

If a prompt doesn’t work or isn’t found — if dopamine is too low to initiate action — I’ve developed a technique I call motivation stacking. You’ve probably heard of habit stacking. I dedicated the first chapter of my book to unlocking the power of habit stacking for a New Beauty and Fitness Regimen. It’s an inaugural yet profound application of habit stacking in my life—anchored by this approach, I stack two reluctant actions together: wearing an LED mask and adding extra core training, creating a more effortless routine. Later, I further blend in listening to podcasts. If you’re interested, you can check out more details in my book.

Here’s my transferable version, aka motivation stacking:

I’m currently working on a Japanese podcast episode. It’s storytelling that revolves around a vintage coat I bought in Tokyo—dare I say, my writing debut in the realm of fashion lol. It’s a perfect fit for my Japanese podcast titled 私の生き方, given the provenance and the cultural context of this travel anecdote.

I already have the English drafts ready, and it was tremendous fun and enormously rewarding to go through this writing journey. Yet the central part—translating it into Japanese—feels a bit daunting.

I can speak and read Japanese, but writing directly is still difficult for me. My approach is often to write in English first, then translate into Japanese.

So how do I motivate myself?

I stack it with something that excites me—my upcoming trip to Japan (lol). When I travel there, I often speak Japanese. Speaking a foreign language in a foreign land always evokes a strong sense of novelty—almost like tapping into a new version of my reality. That thrill and euphoria add fresh fuel to making this Japanese episode—for my new reality, albeit a fleeting and ephemeral one.

If I must pinpoint the nuances of my 2.0 rewiring era, I am not just gazing at trivial friction but also confronting the fear that comes with complexity.

As I’ve mentioned before, I currently stand at the very first stage of my mastery journey—embracing tedium, the foundational phase. And yet, I constantly stretch my cognitive edges—intellectually, emotionally, and aesthetically, enhancing my prefrontal cortex function. Brain rewiring, at its core, boils down to our cognitive capacity. Luckily, dopamine people by nature crave perpetual learning. When a dopamine-oriented temperament meets brain rewiring with intention, we shape into creators that are rooted in grounding, not devoid of reality.

I’ve long held an inner affinity for interior design. I spent years renovating and decorating my home on my own terms. Perhaps my original wiring set me on that path, but it was brain rewiring that pushed me to learn more deeply—beyond intuition. I began dissecting design elements, digesting technical terms, and discerning nuances between materials on a granular level. Let’s say my gut will always opt for marble, but I extend my cognitive understanding into its peripheral range—absorbing features and uses of quartz, granite, cement, micro cement.

Was it pure joy to compare material properties? Not yet. But something in me knew—even subconsciously—that they’re all tied to what I’m striving for—aesthetic radiance with depth and substance.

That parallel mindset carried through writing this piece. Over the past month, I’ve been writing intensively on this self-portrait piece inspired by a single word: dopamine—intertwined with multiple layers of neuroscience. Not by grand design, but my writing once again expanded in scope and depth, blending in complex neurological aspects such as exquisite attention and brain rewiring. I aim to transcend sentimental reflection and anchor this work in science.

My academic rigor—its salience, the part often sidelined—began to shine. I found myself waging a quiet battle with the esoteric world of science, trying to decipher dense neurological concepts and theories—after all, the subject of my writing is the human brain, the most intricate design.

Every day, I attempt to crack the code of a single word or concept—which can be daunting and intimidating, but my curiosity pulls me deep into understanding not just dopamine but also serotonin, oxytocin, adrenaline, cortisol—the whole symphony of brain chemicals—and how they interact with the limbic system and prefrontal cortex. Though some of this peripheral learning may not directly fit this piece, the research and decoding have refined my cognition and deepened my comprehension.

I am not just parsing words or throwing out jargon with vague understanding. My goal is to write a piece with a bit of depth and substance backed by solid science—not fluffy drivel (lol). Somewhere along the way, a subtle yet profound shift began to emerge—those once abstract concepts and clinical terms are transforming into something concrete, grounded, and relevant to me. I’ve started connecting the dots, feeling like I’m wearing a neuroscientist’s hat to reinterpret my situation and explain certain behaviors I previously couldn’t articulate—it’s actually fun lol.

And yet, I know this is just the tip of the iceberg in my neuroscience exploration.

I could go on and on about the ripple effect of brain rewiring—but let me share one last example. Growing up, I was never “a mathematic person.” For a long time, I was painfully blind to anything involving dreadful calculations, believing it simply wasn’t in my zone of genius. I then adopt my rule 101 of re-wiring — began small by grasping the basics of financial literacy. I’ll never be a math genius, but I can reach a functional level to manage my own finances—an essential life skill to survive.

I still cut myself some slack in areas where talent doesn’t come naturally, given my limited time and energy. But here’s the truth: every time I learn, grow, or complete something, dopamine rewards me—and I hence stay in that loop.

At this point in life, I value the vitality of my being, with creativity at the core, aiming for a vibrant yet grounded form of dopamine living.

This is my dopamine self-portrait: I wage a tug-of-war between distraction and focus; I strive to master exquisite attention to survive my duality. I see a glimmer of hope for my dopamine-fuelled temperament; I aspire to unlock the power of brain-rewiring to thrive in my paradox.