#62 / A Heart Attack, Two Notebooks and How I Finally Understood My Father
Note: this post is a very personal one.
I recently revisited The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. It’s a powerful book for creative people looking to regain their spark. Among its methods, the most impactful for me has been “Morning Pages.” The idea is simple: you write a few pages every morning—unfiltered, uncensored. Over time, it’s supposed to ease stress and reveal what’s buried deep in your mind. Many people swear by it, and I became one of them. I started last year, and it gradually became a habit because I gained so many insights about myself. That daily reflection was transformative.
I even keep a notebook next to my pillow, with a pen ready. Sometimes I write in the middle of the night, just to release thoughts. This small practice helped me through something recent and deeply personal.
Earlier this week, my father had a heart attack. I spent the first few days in the hospital with him, running errands, making arrangements—life got very chaotic. He’s been living alone in his apartment for many years, and with his health declining, I knew his space must’ve fallen apart. When I entered the apartment, I was petrified. It was worse than I thought, and I hired a house-cleaning team that worked for seven hours to tidy it up. When they finished, I finally stood in that apartment, able to breathe, to take it all in. And then I saw it—an old-style notebook lying next to his pillow. Out of curiosity, I opened it.
Half the pages were filled. They were mostly copied Chinese poetry, and some calligraphy. I imagined he used it to calm his mind, maybe to help him sleep—just like I do with mine. The first few pages were beautifully written, neat and composed. As I turned the pages, the handwriting grew messier. By the final page, it was nearly illegible. It felt like I was watching two different people writing.
And then it hit me. That notebook mirrored his health, his mind. In the last pages, you could feel the suffering, the pain, the confusion. It was like a silent scream on paper. And I suddenly saw myself in him.
Our notebooks were different in format and content—but in spirit, they were the same.
I don’t have a close relationship with my dad. In fact, it’s been strained. My parents divorced when I was in junior school, and I always blamed him for it. I felt like I didn’t have a normal family, because of him. When I was 17, my mom died in a car accident. After that, I felt completely alone. My dad wasn’t really there for me. Even when I struggled financially after uni, he didn’t offer support. Those moments stuck with me. But maybe, in some strange way, that disappointment became fuel. It made me who I am today: independent, resilient.
I’ve moved countries, changed careers, started my own business, carved out a life on my own terms. And yet… now that I have my own family, I see glimpses of him in me.
Sometimes, I find myself pulling away from my daughter—even though she’s perfect in every way. I hide in my work, my podcasts, my videos. Just like my dad escaped into literature, his version of escape, or healing.
And then I realized—the forms are different, but the spirit is the same.
In that moment, standing there in his apartment, I forgave him.
It’s strange how the mind works—how in just a few minutes, you can release years of blame, feel sudden compassion, and finally understand someone you’ve struggled with for decades.
Now I see that the divorce wasn’t entirely his fault. It takes two people. And maybe he wasn’t a good dad—not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t know how. He didn’t grow up in a stable family either. No one taught him.
So now, I don’t see his heart attack as a curse or bad luck. I see it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: to see him clearly, to understand him, and maybe to repair what’s broken.
There will still be struggles. He’s not used to having me around. He’s lived alone for so long. And this process will be challenging for both of us. But he’s old now. This is the final chapter—my chance to know him before it’s too late.
I thank the universe for this opportunity. And I will use it wisely.
Hello, I’m Bear—a product designer, UX mentor and an award‑winning bilingual podcast host, currently living in Auckland, New Zealand. I enjoy sharing insights from my work, life, and study, helping all of us grow together.
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