The books I love are usually the ones I find relatable, and my list of favorite authors is made up of those who make me feel as though they can read my mind. Obsessed with reading through Substack, often finding myself nodding in agreement with every paragraph. The details. The over-explanations. The science behind every theory and argument makes my mind go, Oh, no wonder why. 

New knowledge unlocked. 

I’m currently reading Beartown by Fredrik Backman, and as I’ve said before, he is one of my favorite writers. So many of his quotes resonate with me. Usually, I just place colorful tabs on the pages instead of writing them down in my Hobonichi tracker. I know some phrases trigger my thoughts, but oh, no pen with me at the moment, so I let them slide instead of writing them down or sticking sticky notes on them. Just more colorful tabs. Tabs. Stick. 

And yet, for someone who consumes so much, I’ve come to realize how difficult it is for me to articulate what I’ve actually learned. Whenever I’m asked to explain my thoughts, my mind goes blank. How do I explain this? I know it inside, but I’m struggling to let the ideas out, especially verbally. 

The Israel-Gaza conflict, Iran-USA tensions. I struggle to respond. When others confidently spread misinformation, I feel triggered inside: how can they not know this? Yet my tongue feels tied. Most of all, I’m afraid I might be the one spreading incorrect information, even though my intentions are right and pure. Because intention doesn’t justify being wrong.

In moments when people share their concerns with me, words fail me. All that comes out is: “It must’ve been hard for you. I understand you. Sabar ya.” It feels as though my brain stops processing what the right thing to say is.

That’s when I started noticing a pattern. 

Even though I consume a lot of media, I still have a hard time articulating my own thoughts. I know when I agree or disagree with something, but I don’t always know how to explain the how and why. 

I read quite a few books in a month. I know when a book is a good book, but I sometimes forget what makes it good and what the actual point of the book was. I read two to three Substack articles in a day, then forget about them by the very next week. 
Maybe the issue isn’t that I’m not learning enough. Maybe I’m consuming too much. 

Too much information. Too much knowledge. Shorts after shorts. Checking my phone while eating, watching YouTube, or even during a long, slow movie. Somewhere along the way, I think I’ve been spoiling my own dopamine balance. 

I do have thoughts that counter some of the arguments I read, but I often let them slide away instead of double-checking them. Perhaps I should start putting sticky notes in my books from now on. 

So, I’ve started doing something different: writing things down. What I learn, why I agree or disagree, and the lessons I’m applying from every piece of media I consume. 

Because one thing I truly love about learning and consuming media is this: my thoughts do not exist in a vacuum. 

I do not need to agree with everything I read. I can filter it and make my own judgments. It is a synthesis of everything I’ve consumed, a blend of what my parents taught me growing up, with my religious beliefs as the core and foundation of my personal values. I get to choose what to apply and what does not align with my values, while still appreciating it as useful knowledge. Hardships, new experiences, and meeting new people may sometimes change my perspective. And I learn along the way. 

And so, my personal blog will become the medium for these reflections: a brain dump, something messy and colorful from a blank canvas to develop and create, a digital garden where I can seed and grow my thoughts from every book I read, every film I watch, and every Substack article I love — I’m so obsessed with Substack that uninstalling Instagram, Threads, and Twitter, and living only with Substack and Pinterest, might just be my end goal. 

And I truly believe there is always something to learn from every piece of media we encounter, no matter how bad it is, because at the very least, we learn what a bad piece looks like. This new series is going to be like the “12 things per month” project I did during the pandemic era, but this time less about personal moments and more about personal reflections. 

The new series is going to be called my personal Slow Digest. But let’s see how consistent I can be. 

It’s going to be a slow reading journey, but that’s exactly the goal.