Yanwen’s blog

7/28/2026

This year, a new expression has become popular on the Chinese internet: "奥德赛时期" (Àodésài shíqī), or "the Odyssey Years."

It refers to the period from the early twenties to the early or mid-thirties, when many young adults have left school but have not yet settled into a stable career, family life, or even a clear sense of identity. It is a time of uncertainty, exploration, trial and error, and self-discovery.

The popularity of the term reflects the reality in China that many young people face today. They spend nearly twenty years moving from one classroom to another, acquiring knowledge and preparing for examinations, having no time for self-discovery and exploration. Yet after graduation they suddenly enter a world where there are no standard answers. Traditional paths to success seem less certain, new opportunities emerge constantly, and the future feels increasingly unpredictable.

One reason the idea resonates is that many young people are trying to discover not only the world but also themselves—what genuinely interests them, where their strengths lie, and what kind of life they want to build.

More than two thousand years ago, Laozi wrote:

知人者智，自知者明。
Zhī rén zhě zhì, zì zhī zhě míng.
Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom.

Perhaps education should aim at both. It should help students understand the world while also helping them understand themselves.

The term "Odyssey Years" comes from Homer's epic The Odyssey. After the Trojan War, the Greek hero Odysseus spent ten years wandering before finally returning home. His long journey became a metaphor for exploration, uncertainty, and personal growth.

The concept made me think of two questions.

The first concerns when the odyssey begins.

The popular definition suggests that self-discovery starts after college. No!

The journey should begin much earlier, during adolescence. Those years should already be a time for exploring interests, discovering strengths and weaknesses, trying different sports, music, art, volunteering, and developing values. 

If students graduate without knowing much about themselves, perhaps education has accomplished only part of its mission.

The second question is when the odyssey ends.

The popular definition suggests that it ends sometime in our thirties. No!

Today's world changes too quickly for self-discovery ever to be complete. New technologies emerge. Industries rise and disappear. Careers change. Our priorities evolve with age. The person we are at twenty-five is not the same person we become at forty-five or sixty-five.

Charles Darwin continued refining his ideas throughout his life. Millions of immigrants began entirely new lives after their thirties. Many retirees discover new passions by learning a language, painting, writing, or volunteering.

Each is still on an odyssey on its own.

Perhaps the real value of the concept lies not in its age range but in its mindset.

Life itself is an odyssey.

Some stages involve more exploration than others, but exploration never truly ends. The more we learn about ourselves and the world, the more we realize how much remains to be discovered.

The Odyssey is not a decade of life. It is a way of living.

7/27/2026

During the past two days, I've written about perfectionism, especially its unhealthy form—maladaptive perfectionism.

Fortunately, modern psychology doesn't just identify the problem. It also offers practical, evidence-based strategies for overcoming it. Here are three that I find especially helpful.

First, cultivate a growth mindset.

Research by psychologist Carol Dweck suggests that people who view mistakes as opportunities to learn and grow tend to be more resilient and achieve better long-term outcomes. Instead of fearing mistakes and seeing them as evidence of failure, they see them as feedback and opportunities for improvement.

Second, focus on the process rather than the outcome.

This is my favorite strategy.

Suppose your goal is to publish a bestselling book. That outcome is determined by many factors, some are beyond your control. A better process goal might be: write 500 words every morning.

We have far more control over our daily actions and habits than over the final results. Focusing on the process not only reduces anxiety but also makes consistent progress more likely.

Third, practice self-compassion.

Self-compassion means treating yourself with the same kindness and understanding that you would offer a friend. Imagine what you would say to a friend who made a mistake. You probably wouldn't tell them they were a failure. Why speak to yourself that way?

Research by psychologist Kristin Neff consistently demonstrates that self-compassion is associated with lower levels of anxiety and depression, greater resilience, and better emotional well-being.

In conclusion, there is no shortage of advice on overcoming perfectionism. Most of it points to the same underlying truth: unhealthy perfectionism is rooted in fear—fear of failure, of mistakes, of other's negative judgment, etc.

Ironically, what we should fear most is not making mistakes but wasting time. People procrastinate, overthink, postpone decisions, and avoid challenges. In the end, they accomplish less. Time passes and wastes while opportunities quietly slip away.

There is an old Chinese saying: 不怕慢，就怕站 (Bù pà màn, jiù pà zhàn) —"Fear not slow progress; fear only standing still." In other words, Fear not if you are imperfect; Fear only you stand still while time moves on.

Perhaps the saddest part of perfectionism is this: in searching for the perfect job, the perfect spouse, the perfect house, or the perfect life, we may end up with none of them. Because perfection itself never exists. Perfection might be just an illusion.

I'd like to end this discussion with something I shared with my son on July 24, 2023:

Never dwell on the past.
Never worry too much about what others think.
Never lose yourself in social media.
Never doubt yourself before you even begin.
Never complain more than you act.
Never pin your future entirely on someone else.
Never be so greedy that you want everything.
Never pursue perfection at the expense of progress.
Never be afraid of losing.

In the end, the greatest risk is never daring to begin.

7/26/2026

Great news for me and my family: My grandson was born yesterday, and I am officially a grandparent!

Yesterday I wrote about a new psychological study showing that perfectionism among college students has continued to rise over the past 35 years. Today I'd like to explore an important distinction that psychologists make.

We are all familiar with sayings such as, "Good, better, best. Never let it rest, till your good is better and your better is best," and "Practice makes perfect." These reflect what psychologists call adaptive perfectionism—setting high standards and striving for excellence. This kind of perfectionism is generally healthy because it is driven by the desire to improve and win.

The problem lies with another form: maladaptive perfectionism.

Maladaptive perfectionism is driven not by the pursuit of excellence but by the fear of failure. 

It is fueled by fear of making mistakes, fear of losing, fear of other people's judgment, fear of disappointing others, fear of not being good enough, and fear of uncertain consequences. People set high standards and interpret anything less than perfection as a personal failure.

When fear becomes the driving force, people often avoid situations where they might fail. Instead of taking action, they procrastinate. They wait for the perfect moment.

As the saying goes, "A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." A perfectionist can become like a ship that never leaves the harbor, waiting for completely risk-free conditions. But that perfect condition may never come and the journey never starts.

The recent study found that one of the fastest-growing dimensions of perfectionism is precisely this fear—fear of mistakes, fear of negative evaluation, and fear of not measuring up. In other words, unhealthy perfectionism is not chasing perfection but avoiding imperfection.

That reminds me of a Chinese saying:

摸着石头过河 (Mōzhe shítou guò hé) — Cross the river by feeling for the stones.

The proverb accepts that we do not know everything in advance. Still, we precede, step by step, and make adjustments along the way, and learn from doing. Uncertainty is just part of the journey.

A perfectionist says, "Don't step into the river until you're certain there's no risk or mistakes ahead." The proverb says, "Step into the river carefully, learn from each step, and keep moving."

Perhaps this is especially true when we are young. Mistakes made early in life are often less costly and provide valuable lessons. If we let fear take the helm, we may remain like a ship in the harbor—safe, but never discovering what we are capable of achieving or seeing the grand views that lie beyond the horizon.

Perfectionism grows in the shadow of fear. Growth begins the moment we become willing to make imperfect progress. 

Instead of asking, "How can I avoid mistakes?" perhaps we should ask, "What can I learn from my next mistake?"

7/25/2026

Two days ago I came across a study whose findings truly surprised me. It was about something many people quietly struggle with every day: perfectionism.

The paper was published on Psychological Bulletin by Thomas Curran, Andrew P. Hill, & Pia Marie Pose (2026).

The researchers analyzed 307 separate studies on 82,939 college students from the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom covering the period 1989–2024.

They examined several dimensions of perfectionism, including: 

--self-oriented perfectionism (demanding perfection from oneself), 

--socially prescribed perfectionism (feeling others expect perfection), 

--concerns over mistakes, 

--doubts about actions.

The researchers found that perfectionism has continued to increase over the past 35 years. The sharpest increases were in fear of making mistakes and self-doubt. Compared with students in the late 1980s, today's college students reported substantially higher levels of perfectionistic concerns. The rise also appears to have accelerated during the past decade.

Curran argues that smartphones are not the primary cause. Instead, social media may amplify the problem, while the deeper drivers are structural: rising tuition costs, greater job competition, widening inequality, economic insecurity, and a growing perception that there is less room for failure.

Whether or not Curran's explanation proves to be the whole story, one thing seems clear: more and more young people are living with the feeling that they cannot afford to make mistakes. That may be one of the defining psychological challenges of our time.

Understanding the causes is important. But knowing how to overcome unhealthy perfectionism may be even more important. Tomorrow I'd like to explore more on this topic.

7/24/2026

The FIFA World Cup, co-hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico, concluded last week. Spain defeated defending champion Argentina 1–0 to win its second World Cup title.

Much has been written about Spain's national team and its star players. But one story caught my attention—not about a player, but about the place where many of them learned the game: La Masia.

La Masia is FC Barcelona's renowned youth academy, widely regarded as one of the most successful talent-development systems in the history of football.

Its influence was on full display in this year's World Cup final. Nine of the 46 players on Spain's and Argentina's squads were La Masia graduates, including Spain's rising star Lamine Yamal and Argentina's captain Lionel Messi.

What fascinates me is that La Masia offers lessons that extend far beyond football. They apply equally well to education, business, leadership, and even our own personal growth.

Lesson 1: Greatness is built over a long period of time 

La Masia recruits children as young as six and trains them for ten or more years before they are ready for the first team contest.

Rome was not built in a day. Whether learning a language, becoming a musician, writing well, or building a career or a company, success usually comes from years of consistent effort.

Results take time. Perhaps the most impressive thing about La Masia is its patience.

The academy invests enormous resources in children with no guarantee of success. Many leave. Many never become professional players.

Yet the academy continues investing because it understands that developing people is a long-term endeavor.

There is an old Chinese saying: 十年树木，百年树人—"It takes ten years to grow a tree, but a hundred years to cultivate a person."

Lesson 2: Develop a system, not just talent

La Masia's long history of success emphasizes this fact: an organization’s long-term competitiveness depends on a system to consistently produce the next winning team.

Players grow old and retire. Coaches come and go. What truly endures is the system—the shared philosophy, the training methods, and the standards that shape every generation.

Talent certainly matters, but talent alone is rarely enough. A well-designed system—supported by excellent coaching, a clear mission, and continuous feedback—allows talent to flourish year after year.

The same applies to ordinary life. Instead of relying on motivation alone, we benefit more from building habits and routines that make improvement inevitable.

Lesson 3: Learn the fundamentals first

La Masia is famous for emphasizing: ball control, passing, positioning, teamwork, and quick decision-making.

The daily drills may seem repetitive and even monotonous. Yet young players spend years mastering these fundamentals before attempting spectacular plays.

That principle applies everywhere.

Whether writing, painting, playing the piano, or programming, those who master the fundamentals usually outperform those who chase shortcuts.

Lesson 4: Success is a team effort 

Football, like building a successful company, is never a one-person endeavor.

La Masia teaches players to understand space, anticipate teammates' movements, and make decisions that benefit the team.

In life, too, our achievements often depend on collaboration within a social group rather than individual brilliance.

Finally, even the best system cannot guarantee success. Likewise, no educational method, parenting style, or business strategy can guarantee outstanding results. But good systems do something equally valuable—they consistently increase the odds of success over time.

Perhaps that is La Masia's greatest lesson. Excellence is rarely the product of luck. More often, it is the result of patient cultivation, strong fundamentals, and a system that keeps producing excellence long after individual stars have come and gone.