四十歲之前，我活在一個科學的世界。
求學時，專注於大人們口中的「重要科目」；大學時，選擇了被認為德高望重的醫學；後來的職涯，也理所當然地圍繞著科學運轉。直到某一天，不堪身心的壓力，我轉換了跑道，成為一名自然科教師。
三十八歲那年，我忽然發現自己很愛看書。
三十九歲那年，我開始寫下閱讀的感受。
四十歲那年，我問自己：下半輩子，可否做個文人？
這個念頭很吸引人。既然上半輩子託付給了科學，下半輩子，何不交給藝術？
想法很理想，現實卻很骨感。對於藝術，我一竅不通；對於文字，我只知道它們是用來溝通的。我該從哪裡開始？又該如何走下去？
於是，我從這裡開始。
這個小角落，是我與自己對話的靜心空間。透過書評與生活省思，我在繁忙的日子裡練習停下來，記錄那些值得被看見的細節。這裡沒有華麗的文字，只有生活的片段、書本、思索，以及日常的呼吸。
我相信，專注與覺察能讓生活變得更簡單，也更踏實。這裡不是為了追求答案，而是讓自己慢慢走在一條更安穩、更有意識的道路上。
也許你路過，也許你願意停留片刻——都好。只願在這裡，我們能共享一份安靜與自在。
歡迎你。很高興認識你。
Before forty, I lived in a world shaped by science.
I followed the path that was considered important—studying science, choosing medicine, and building a career around it. Until one day, overwhelmed by both physical and mental strain, I stepped away and became a science teacher.
At thirty-eight, I discovered a deep love for reading.
At thirty-nine, I began writing down my reflections.
At forty, I asked myself: could I spend the second half of my life as a writer?
The idea was compelling. If the first half of my life belonged to science, perhaps the second half could belong to art.
It sounds ideal, but reality is less kind. I have no formal background in the arts, and little understanding of writing beyond its basic function as communication. I did not know where to begin, or how to move forward.
So I began here.
This little corner is my quiet space for conversations with myself. Through book reviews and reflections on life, I practice pausing amidst busy days, capturing the small details that deserve to be noticed. There are no fancy words here—just fragments of life, books, thoughts, and the gentle rhythm of everyday breathing.
I believe that focus and awareness can make life simpler and more grounded. This space is not about chasing answers, but about walking, step by step, on a steadier and more mindful path.
Perhaps you pass by, or perhaps you choose to stay awhile—either way is enough.
Welcome. It’s nice to meet you.