生命中的幸福味道

Growing older is inevitable, but growing up is a choice. May we never lose the childlike wonder that makes life beautiful, the innocent laughter that warms our hearts, or the boundless imagination that keeps our dreams alive. To be young at heart is to see magic in the ordinary, find joy in the simplest things, and meet the world with curiosity, kindness, and an open heart. 🌈 Happy Children’s Day 2026! Stay young at heart, forever and always. 🌈 29.10.2026  #Mikemoments 

The transboundary haze caused by Indonesia’s forest and peatland fires is nothing new. It was already troubling Southeast Asia in 1983, when I was just a child. Since then, the haze has returned almost every dry season, particularly between August and October. The 1997 crisis was especially devastating, as Malaysia sent firefighting teams to help battle the massive fires in Sumatra and Kalimantan. Coincidentally, the Asian financial crisis struck around the same time, leaving behind two unforgettable scars in our collective memory. Now, in 2026, history is repeating itself. In September, Sematan in Sarawak reportedly recorded an Air Pollutant Index (API) reading above 500, well into the hazardous range. By October, schools were closing again, and this morning even Kuala Lumpur woke up to the smell of smoke. More than two decades after regional agreements were signed, the haze continues to return, year after year. Promises have been made, but lasting solutions remain elusive...

In October (2026), the air in America is charged with midterm election fervor. Yet before me lies a humble little pastry, bringing together matcha, taro paste, and sesame—a delicate combination that tells a different story about choice. The freshness of matcha evokes the hope people place in the future. The soft, comforting richness of taro speaks to the everyday concerns that shape our lives: the rising cost of living, housing expenses, medical bills, and the simple yet profound question of whether hard work can still lead to a life of security and peace of mind.  The deep, distinctive flavor of sesame, meanwhile, reflects the diversity of beliefs and convictions within society. Every voice has its own origins, its own reasons, and its own reasons for standing firm. The pastry’s outer crust, whether fried or baked, offers a satisfying crispness. But beneath that golden exterior, it is the filling that ultimately defines its character. And so, I find myself thinking abo...

I'm absolutely in love with the Chinese drama Against The Current, especially this line: “Back then, I wasn't yet worthy of you. Perhaps Heaven made us walk separate paths for a while, so that once we had both grown into better versions of ourselves, we could truly find our way back to each other.” Some kinds of love aren't brought together by fate alone. Perhaps love needs two people to grow, to strive, and to become better versions of themselves—so that when the time is finally right, they are ready to meet each other again. Maybe that's what makes certain kinds of love so beautiful: not simply finding the right person, but becoming the right person for each other. #Mikemoments

When you find that one person who connects you to the world, you become someone different—someone softer, more hopeful, perhaps even someone better. For a while, you believe that love has made the world make sense. You begin to see meaning in the smallest things, and you allow yourself to believe that perhaps you have finally found the person who makes life feel whole. But when that person is taken from you, something within you changes forever. Life does not stop. The world does not pause to mourn with you. Morning still comes, people still laugh, seasons still change, and life simply keeps moving forward. And so do you. But you are no longer the same person who once loved so recklessly, so innocently, so completely. The hopeless romantic—the foolish, wholehearted believer who once thought love could conquer everything—is gone. What remains is someone who has learned that love can be both a beginning and an ending; that losing someone does not mean losing the a...

Do you believe that the identity we are given may belong to fate, but the soul we carry—and the spirit with which we live—belongs to us? Perhaps that is what makes Against the Current (Lan Xiang Ru Gu) so deeply moving.  Beneath its romance lies a quiet rebellion against the cages of identity: the insistence that a person should be seen not for the name they bear, the class they belong to, or the skin they inhabit, but for the soul that lives beneath it all. In the rigid social order of its world, the distance between a maid and the young master of an eminent family is not merely social—it is almost a chasm. They belong to different worlds, governed by different rules, with little reason to ever meet as equals. And yet, this very impossibility is what gives their love its extraordinary force. Lan Xiang may have been born into servitude, but she never allowed servitude to define the limits of her spirit. Her intelligence, resilience, dignity and quiet defiance gradually ...