Sinfonia
As 2024 draws to a close, year’s end once again provides that perfect moment to review the events and lessons of the past twelve months and to gather energy for the coming year. This year can be seen as a continuation of what came before; yet within these ongoing processes, I’ve further turned inward for reflection. Life thus unfolds like a fugue: amidst its polyphonic textures, what emerges is not a muddle of drifting fragments, but rather a form of exquisite precision and flexibility, steeped in feeling.
Different moments of retrospection yield different emotions. But right now, if I had to use a single work to characterize 2024, I would choose Bach’s Partita for Keyboard No. 2 in c minor, BWV 826.
The act of looking back is solemn but unhurried. Between voices then and now, even a lone performer can weave the grandeur and tension of a symphony.
Let’s begin.
Allemande
Abstracting the elements of dance—crystalline legato lines interlaced with fluid motion and subtle haze—this Allemande is my January and February.
This has long been my favorite time of year. Perhaps it’s simply because it’s close to my birthday. But this year, edging toward the threshold of thirty, I found the mixture of feelings more complex than ever before.
Exhibitions, gatherings, preparations for turning thirty: I learned to adapt and settle into this life stage. Amid busyness, I sprinkled leisure activities to draw inspiration and recharge. Catching up with old friends and long-time partners wasn’t just about exchanging recent stories; it also offered a comfortable mode of connection. Spending time with family during Lunar New Year, revisiting places familiar or strange, I cherished the increasingly rare moments of reunion.
By late February, I traveled to Tainan for a briefing on the ‘Let’s Talk’ deliberation activities. In recent years, these have become a significant thread in my annual schedule. I’ve never been entirely comfortable as a lecturer standing before a crowd—my sensitivity heightens the tension of perceiving audience responses yet not always meeting their needs or expectations. Still, sharing experiences and guiding principles might be helpful. Balancing different target groups, contents, and demands remains a challenge I continue to negotiate, learn from, and ponder.
In familiar situations, every encounter is still new—continuous recurrences with shifting intensities.
Courante
In a triple meter with brisk pacing, there is clarity of goal and abundant energy.
March and April interwove work and external engagements with a trip to Taroko Gorge and several concerts. Anticipating a busy schedule ahead, even short, intense breaks that brim with energy became vital.
Work and leisure twined like a courante’s interlaced accents, as if racing forward. It invisibly reminded me that the interplay of holding tight and letting go generates power. Gripping too hard stifles energy; spreading too thin lacks drive. The interplay of both tests decision-making and nurtures resilience and support systems within.
In these two months, besides routine radio recordings, I revisited my alma mater to talk about cultivating leadership. I designed self-observation worksheets for deliberation training and improvised a full-day training session. I served as a facilitator at the “Investing in the Next Generation Youth Forum” and joined a showcase of university student unions.
Watching musicians lift and drop their hands over the black and white keys in recorded performances, I sensed my own life at that time mirrored this motion—leaping among different contexts, cities, and states.
Seemingly unrelated things overlapped, but I remained clear about what I sought and believed.
Sarabande
Even at a slower tempo, the music does not relinquish its dynamism—lyrical, yet open and spacious.
During the months of May through July, I intentionally imposed a gentler rhythm on my life: no more than one external commitment each month, complemented by attending one or two concerts. Outwardly, it might have seemed as if I had eased off the accelerator. In reality, beyond fulfilling my professional obligations, I devoted extra hours to personal learning and to treasuring more unhurried moments with family and friends. By maintaining openness and steadily refueling my inner reserves, I was, in effect, bracing myself for the intense cycles of busy engagements that would inevitably follow. Preparing my mind and body in advance—the act of recalibration and recharging—thus became essential to moving forward with resilience.
Looking back from where I stand now, I feel genuine gratitude toward my earlier self for making such arrangements. Environmental shifts often foment uncertainty and anxiety, rippling through industries and individuals alike. While we celebrate notions like agility, flexibility, and openness when confronted with change, attaining these virtues requires both cultivating new habits and accumulating a generous store of inner resources. Mental well-being and emotional stability cannot rely solely on single moments of forced composure; rather, they stem from sustained processes like meta-awareness, metacognition, and consistently anchored attention over time.
My daily meditation practice has supported me in this pursuit. From research, I learned that certain forms of mindfulness not only sharpen attention but also enhance meta-awareness—an awareness that observes one’s own awareness. Through this capacity, it becomes possible to notice one’s inner states and respond more effectively, instead of blending inseparably with thoughts, feelings, or sensations. Achieving emotional regulation begins by first recognizing your emotions, understanding their origins and impacts, then modulating their intensity and duration in ways that nurture health and balance. When approached objectively, without judgment, the entire emotional landscape becomes more comprehensible and manageable.
Admittedly, the notion of a state where one both merges with the surroundings and yet dissolves the self may sound elusive. As a visual parallel, consider Yayoi Kusama’s installation “Self-obliteration,” which manifests this spirit of encompassing observation, mutual interconnectedness, and the dissolution of ego. Whether it was my daily meditation practice, the learning I undertook, or the “spiritual sustenance” I consumed during that interval, all these efforts converged to strengthen my capacity for self-inquiry, metacognitive reflection, and heightened meta-awareness. Ultimately, these disciplines and nourishment acted like a shock absorber, equipping me with the internal flexibility and poise to confront future “overtones” or unexpected turbulence.
Rondeaux
The rhythm here is forceful, coiling back on itself with steady repetition, then snapping to a concise but substantial close. That density and intensity evoke a rondeau, reflecting the character of my August through November.
During these four months, familiar patterns recurred like a thematic refrain, while brief, interspersed passages ornamented and bridged each return of the main motif. Although the external engagements and compressed timelines bore striking resemblance to one another, subtle variations emerged—stemming from the different teams and institutions I worked with, as well as sudden, unforeseen incidents that tested my capacity to adapt and endure.
Acting as a facilitator (distinct from the typical role of a “host”) has become part of my professional routine—something I’m accustomed to, though never fully at ease with. Beyond the intense focus, swift synthesis, and real-time responsiveness this role demands, I naturally bring my own habitual modes of analysis and reasoning to the issues at hand. As a neutral facilitator, striking a balance between meeting the organizer’s expectations, honoring and deepening the voices on the ground, and safeguarding participants’ sense of efficacy requires an intricate interplay of evaluation and judgment. The decisions and directions chosen in the moment often diverge from my personal preferences or positions. Thus, transitioning between different sessions is not merely a matter of physical relocation; it involves recalibrating my mindset and adjusting my anticipated approaches, frameworks, and styles at a moment’s notice.
Each episode—every regret or perceived shortcoming revealed upon reflection, every psychological adjustment to meet upcoming demands—leaves traces that gradually accumulate weight over time. By November, I keenly sensed a subtle loss of equilibrium in my internal recalibration, and the resulting imbalance naturally took its toll on my overall state. Caught in this reflective loop, my emotions were easily stirred: before I could fully replenish my energy or absorb the lessons of prior experiences, I was compelled to rush headlong into the next engagement.
Fortunately, when scheduling these commitments, I had allocated a margin of respite—an interval that allowed me to begin regaining balance before truly hitting bottom. This deliberate breathing space ensured that I could gradually restore myself, maintaining enough poise to continue forward.
Capriccio
Light and unfettered, fervent while agile, the seemingly fragmented keystrokes coalesce within this brief capriccio into a wide-ranging tapestry of sentiment and sound.
While a Gigue would typically crown such a suite in Bach’s time, here it is replaced by a Capriccio—an emblem of open-ended exploration and creative vitality.
Though the year’s end customarily swirls with activity, I deliberately granted December greater flexibility, mindful of the preceding months’ constrictive tempo. Reuniting with old classmates and partners, exercising, volunteering, and attending recitals filled this period with more personal space—an interlude for genuine introspection. I have always believed that only through such quietude can inspiration, intuition, and lasting tranquility truly emerge. I feel profoundly grateful for having both the time and the conditions to complete my obligations systematically, while simultaneously enriching my inner life.
As we approach 2025 and anticipate the upcoming 19th Chopin Piano Competition, I look back on this December’s minor triumph: finally securing performances and autographs from the top three laureates of the 18th edition. Listening to recitals—regardless of whether the pianist’s style aligns perfectly with my own sensibilities—yields invaluable insights. The faithful presentation, impeccable technique, and emotional elasticity informed by each artist’s lived experience imbue established classics with renewed vigor. Everyone holds personal preferences and interpretive proclivities, but immersing myself in these contemporary pianists’ performances resonates with the thematic balancing acts I encountered in previous deliberations, igniting subtle sparks of inspiration. These sparks remain amorphous for now, but I trust they will eventually crystallize into clearer ideas and actionable strategies.
There’re always regrets at year’s end—stray fragments lost in the flow. But within these scattered pieces, we can discern structure; within interruptions, continuity; and after stumbling, a renewed resolve that dispels fear of further missteps. Life can feel like a chess match: once a piece is placed, there is no taking it back. Striving to leave no regrets is noble yet rarely attainable in full. Still, when the game ends and we revisit the moves, we recognize that every tentative or resolute step mattered. Viewed across a longer timeline, even oscillations of advance and retreat manifest as forward motion.
In an age brimming with abundant information and knowledge, an open mind is imperative. While it also demands giving oneself time to anchor the accumulated wisdom—to recall one’s direction and goals, and to discover a personal stride amid the era’s relentless acceleration. Stay flexible but not aimless; follow one’s inclinations without losing sight of one’s true compass; quell restlessness so that fresh understanding becomes a wellspring of vitality rather than a drain on the spirit. Such is the essence of this December’s rejuvenation. Though it may seem indulgent, it more closely resembles a compressed spring, quietly amassing potential energy until it can propel future endeavors. The energies cultivated so far hold the promise of new possibilities to come.
The music may fade, the year conclude, but we do not depart empty-handed. Carry forward the insights gleaned and reinterpreted, letting them flow toward 2025.
As for what composition 2025 will become—only time will tell.