Acknowledging the Process of Aging

It seems I really like being able to move freely.

I can shape the ideas in my head into code, and test what I come up with on the very same day. Having my mind and body move exactly as I intend—that is what I believe makes me “me.”

However, recently, I feel like my body has started telling the truth.

It’s not that I can no longer push myself. Just recently, I had the opportunity to co-author a book with an engineer living overseas, and I worked late into the night to accommodate the time difference. When it’s for something I really want to do, I can still power through.

What has changed, I think, is the rebound afterward.

The day after pushing myself, my head stays foggy for the whole day. Sometimes the fatigue just won’t go away and I can’t get anything done. A good night’s sleep used to be enough to reset everything. Now, just a few hours of overexertion lingers well into the next day. And this rebound seems to be getting a bit worse every year.

Thinking about it that way, the brute-force approach of “the more time I spend, the more progress I make” may be reaching its limits.

Being able to move freely like I do now probably won’t last forever. Before I realized it, the tens digit of my age is about to roll over.

I became an engineer at 20. Back then, everything was fresh, and I felt like I could absorb anything. There is a saying that life’s peak ends in your early twenties. I know it’s probably a myth. But for someone like me who has vaguely believed it, my current self feels like nothing but a regression.

In your late twenties, you are no longer called a “junior.” But you aren’t exactly a “veteran” either. The old brute-force approach of “just spending time, moving my hands, and memorizing everything without thinking” is gradually becoming exhausting. But maybe because of these physical changes, the way I think about things has been shifting too.

A clear example might be how I approach technology as an engineer. In the past, it felt like “using modern technology” was the goal itself. Whenever a new tool came out, I would try to memorize every corner of its specifications. And back then, I had the sheer energy to brute-force that information into my head.

It’s a bit different now. Instead of blindly chasing the specifications of a specific product, I first try to understand the higher-level technical concepts behind it, and then map those onto individual products. “Why is this necessary?” and “What do we want to solve?” come first. If a modern technology fits as the right means to that end, I’ll use it. If it doesn’t, I’ve stopped forcing myself to chase it.

I don’t think I had this perspective back when I could just swallow everything whole. Instead of absorbing things by brute force, I’ve started to notice more moments where I can see the structure of something and apply it elsewhere. Whether to call this “regression” or not, I honestly don’t know yet.

On the other hand, I don’t feel like all change has been for the better.

I play guitar and make beats as a hobby. I used to do it purely because I loved it. If I nailed a good tone, I was happy. If I made a cool beat, that alone was enough. But lately, I catch myself thinking things like “Could I sell this beat?” or “If I get to 1,000 YouTube subscribers, I could monetize the channel” before I even start making music. I find myself doing the math before I play a single note.

When I realized this kind of thinking had become second nature, I was a bit disgusted with myself. Something I started because I loved it now has this calculating “I want to get something back from it” mentality creeping in. I don’t know if this is what “growing up” means, or if I’ve just become a more boring person.

Looking back like this, for better and for worse, I’ve definitely changed from who I was back then. So what do I do going forward? I suppose the future is just the accumulation of right now. If I slack off today, I’ll keep slacking off tomorrow. If I do it today, I should be able to keep building on it. Whether I’ve aged or not is something only I get to judge right now. So I figure all I can do is make sure today doesn’t give me a reason to feel that way.

Whether it’s a weekday or the weekend, things I don’t want to do inevitably come up every day. In the past, I might have powered through with youth and all-nighters, but that doesn’t work anymore. I suppose all I can do now is deal with each hassle in front of me, one at a time. I’m starting to think that maybe that’s all I can really do about the vague anxiety toward the future.

“Aging” doesn’t just show up one day. It’s probably something that happens gradually. The changes in my stamina, in my way of thinking, in how I approach my hobbies—I think they’re all part of that process. I can’t sort any of this out neatly, but maybe the first step is just to acknowledge this changing version of myself. And then keep going, even if it feels messy. I think that’s all I can do.