Hello everyone!
Today, I want to introduce myself through the ancient game of Go. Just as a Go board has 361 possibilities, my life has been shaped by calculated moves, unexpected setbacks, and unbrokenable friendlyship—even when the game doesn’t go as planned.
The opening phase of Go is all about balancing ambition and caution, however, I learned this the hard way. At 12, I lost my first official Go match because of reckless opening moves. That time my mentor said I was building castles on the sand,asking me to focus on fundamentals and stability. So I started studying classic strategies, practicing daily, and avoiding shortcuts. One year later, I finally achieved second dan. Go taught me that a strong foundation matters more than early victories.
The middle game is all about adaptability. Once, I faced a seasoned player who trapped me. Panicking, I made impulsive moves and lost. That time I froze under pressure and misread the strategies. But then I reviewed every mistake, journaled my errors, trained with stronger opponents, and eventually overcame my fear of failure. Go’s middle game taught me that defeat isn’t failure unless you stop learning.
Go’s endgame taught me that even solo games need connection. When I was trailing by 3 points, my hands trembling, my childhood friend, who had trained with me for years, whispered, “Breathe. You’ve faced harder fights.” Her calmness calm me down. Inspired, I won by half a point. Later, when she struggled with depression, I returned the support, reminding her of our Go mantra: “Stones may fall, but the board remains.”
Life of me, like Go, isn’t about winning every match. My three battles taught me to value growth over titles. Today, I’m still a Go amateur—but every game deepens my respect for strategy, adaptability, and friendlyship. The board remains my teacher, reminding me: “A lost game still holds winning lessons.”
Thank you.
