Issue No. 73

Having met many different people from various walks of life, I've come to recognize a troubling aspect of human nature—one that I sometimes struggle with myself. I’ve noticed that as people gain more power—whether through a higher salary, more possessions, or mingling with those of higher social status—they often forget where they came from. They begin to think more highly of themselves, as if their worth to the world is unshakable, even in the face of adversity.

I constantly remind myself of this: everything can be taken away from me—today, tomorrow, or in the future. It’s not a matter of if, but when. This mindset keeps me grounded, reminding me that I am just one person among billions, with limited significance in the grand scheme of things. However, I can still be important to a few.

I used to think I was special, deserving of all the attention. I was naive, believing I knew better than most, but life has humbled me time and again. I am special to myself because I am the only one living in my head. But everyone else feels the same way about themselves. Everyone thinks they are the center of the universe. If we could all step outside ourselves and view life from a distance, we’d probably realize how insignificant most things are. But because we see the world through our own eyes, it’s hard not to feel that everything revolves around us.

Before I found my current job, I worked as a baker because my aunt insisted I earn some money while I searched for a job, having only graduated a few months earlier. I thought it was beneath me. I had an engineering degree—why was I working with pastries and donuts? My uncle told me not to view it as beneath me because, as a fresh graduate, I had nothing to offer the world except my innocence. I didn’t fully understand what he meant at the time, but now I think I do.

While working at a bakery on the U.S. Army Base in Pyeongtaek, South Korea, I witnessed simpler lives that were humble in their own way. My coworkers included an elderly woman who took pride in baking the best scones, a man who mastered the art of slicing meat for the deli, a young woman—often disliked for her nosiness—who excelled at cake decorating, the man who hired me and kept everyone’s schedule in order, and a middle-aged woman with two children who was practically my boss.

One day, I was exhausted from the chaos of the kitchen—a hot and stressful environment. I still have a scar on my left arm from accidentally burning myself on a hot tray. Despite my own discomfort, I noticed my boss carrying heavy boxes of juice and stocking them on the shelves. She was so careful with each box. I see her happy doing her job. As I watched her, something clicked. This woman had previously shared that her day started at 5 a.m., preparing meals for her husband and children, taking them to school, and then working from 9 a.m. until evening, only to go home and cook again. She must have been more tired than I was, yet she clearly valued her job. She said it’s because she has everything she wanted. A good paying job, a happy family, a car, and a house. When you think of it, these things can actually be considered luxury today since a regular young adult can barely afford rent. But what really made me think that day was how much she enjoys doing the same thing everyday despite it being a job that many would think as a basic labor. What struck me most, I guess, was that I saw my mother in her. I never really saw my mom work because she was employed abroad, but watching my boss, I imagined the countless days and nights my mom worked hard so I could enjoy the food on my plate.

Since then, that job of baking donuts and pastries has taught me humility. There are people facing much tougher situations, yet there I was, complaining about baking donuts in an air-conditioned building. I began to take pride in what I did because, in the afternoon, when I finished baking the scones, breads, donuts, and baguettes, I saw the smiles of people picking them up from the shelves. Especially when kids chose the donuts I had decorated with cute characters. They would show them to their parents, place them in their little baskets, and stare at them with sparkling eyes. I realized I had made a child’s day special with a donut featuring Pikachu’s face. No camera can capture that moment—it’s just a memory I treasure.

Now that I have moved on from that job and now have my own small business and a nice paying job, I can’t help but try to keep myself grounded to Earth. I know I should feel proud of myself, and I am, but I also know that humility will double it for me. When I have something, I give. When I have more, I remember it can be taken away from me anyday, either by a sudden emergency or a calamity.

So now, whenever I achieve something or gain wealth or status, I remind myself of where I came from and what I’ve seen. There’s no point in thinking too highly of yourself compared to others. Nobody likes someone with that attitude. We often admire people who quietly accomplish great things without boasting, who do it for themselves or for the people they care about.

Until next week,