Thresholds

I’ve always wanted to build something. A space, a puzzle, a project of my own.

But for a long time, I was afraid of building. Afraid that I wasn’t good enough, that I wouldn’t finish, or that whatever I made would never compare to what others create. I only know the very basics of HTML. This site exists mostly because I leaned on AI to help me put the pieces together. But in a way, that feels right — it mirrors how I’ve always worked: sketching patterns, experimenting, finding ways to make an experience feel alive even if I don’t have all the technical tools.

There’s no master plan behind this website. It’s not here to be polished or complete. It’s a threshold — a space in-between, unfinished, open, uncertain. A place where I can share fragments, random thoughts, and experiments without pretending they’re final.

Maybe nothing here will ever be “finished.” But that’s okay. This site is proof that I crossed the hesitation and finally created something. And in this unplanned space, I feel a quiet kind of hope.

When I was younger, I always thought that people who write articles or books must have had tons of experience. I imagined them sitting at their desks, a candle flickering beside them, a cup of coffee in hand, waiting for ideas to flow from their minds onto paper. I spent years believing this, never thinking I could write a book or even an article. Then one day, I decided to start my own book. And now, somehow, here I am, writing an article too. Can you imagine?

Let me share how this all came to be — and maybe, how it can resonate with you as well.

Life in med school has always been intense, and I quickly realized I needed an outlet. Some people hit the gym, meet friends, or indulge in comfort food. For me, it was simpler, I loved finding quiet spaces and just thinking. Over time, this became more than relaxation; it sharpened my sense of observation. I would notice the little things, the small mysteries in everyday life, and my mind would start connecting the dots.

I wasn’t always this observant, but with little free time, I began using these quiet moments wisely. I started writing small articles on Facebook, sharing them with friends, or casually discussing what I noticed during my med school rotations. The response was always the same: “You notice things that no one else even sees.” At first, I didn’t know how to feel about this. Was it odd, or was it a sign that I was onto something meaningful?

I honestly didn’t know what to do with this piece of information, are people actually mad that I “notice” things ? Or is this the right thing to do, given my nature in the medical field, after all a good doctor is a good “observer” ? I spent some time reflecting on this thought, and seem to have found answers on how my brain works.

I realized I’m a pattern seeker. I notice connections in the world that others might overlook, always asking, “What’s behind this?” rather than just accepting it at face value. At first, it felt strange, even isolating, but over time I realized it was a talent. If few people naturally do this, then it’s an an advantage I can cultivate.

I began writing more about my observations, translating them into simple words that anyone could understand. Some pieces resonated with people, others less so, but what mattered most to me was whether my writing reflected who I truly am. Writing became my way of seeking meaning, uncovering hidden truths and patterns in the world around me.

Eventually, these reflections grew into a book I’m working on, a book about the idea of emergence, about how small, simple actions can combine to create massive, unexpected consequences, the “butterfly effect” of everyday life. Interestingly, this article itself is a product of emergence. I hadn’t planned to write it, just as I hadn’t planned the book. It came naturally, unfolding from my thoughts and observations.

This is the first article I’ll be posting here, and in future pieces, I’ll explore patterns in life across fields — physics, biology, medicine, psychology, history, and whatever sparks my curiosity. I want to follow the trail of thought wherever it leads, without limiting it.

Returning to why you should write, too, the answer is simple. Your brain is a mental library full of experiences, thoughts, and ideas. The moment you put them into words, an article, a post, you won’t even realize how much is inside your head. That’s the brilliance of our minds, and why writing is such a fascinating outlet. We’ve consumed writings all our lives; writing is how our brains translate simple neuron firings into words that make sense and influence the world. After all, our main purpose in life is to pass the “message.” This message is literally a collection of letters encoded in DNA, as if life itself is written in simple letters, forming the patterns that create everything we are.

So take a moment, open a blank page, and start. You never know where it will take you.