notes app; what does intentionality mean?
on what it means to live a life of intentionality, fine dining restaurants in sydney, discovering who I look up to and winning with your favourite characters
I talk a lot about living a life of intentionality. It’s something pertained on my About page, is something I’ve brought about via my early-stage journaling posts and played a central role in my 2024 retrospective where I vowed to incorporate more of it into this year.
I want to say intentionality is pretty self-explanatory, but truth be told, if you put me on the spot and asked me to properly define what that meant to me - I would not be able to answer you.
(Okay, perhaps I could, but I’d use the copout answer and say that a life of intentionality depends from person to person - which is absolutely true - to which you’d follow up by asking me what it meant to me specifically; a question that would stump me like a bag of bricks.)
Someday soon, I’ll write a more comprehensive and detail (or perhaps overwhelmingly simple) post about what intentional living means to me - but for the time-being, here’s a scattered, stream-of-consciousness prelude on what it could be.
prelude i: fishers
A few years back, one of my colleagues said he went fishing over the weekend.
“How long have you been fishing?”
“I’ve never fished before.”
Not only he did not know to fish, he also had no clue how to steer a boat.
In fact, he didn’t even have any friends in Sydney yet because he had only moved here a month ago for work.
All he did was wake up that Saturday morning, perhaps binging a couple of fishing shows the night before and decided that he’d give it a go. He called up a boat rental agency, asked for a few pointers and went on his way.
He didn’t manage to catch any fish.
But he had an intention to try and took initiative to do so.
To me, that’s a life of intentionality.
prelude ii: authors
In layman terms, a life of intentionality is operating in a way that every decision you make, no matter how major of minute, carries out a purpose.
Purpose does not, and usually isn’t, a huge thing. It doesn’t have to be eradicating poverty (and therefore I donate half my income) or stopping global warming (and therefore I partake in climate conferences), but smaller ones like raising a good family (and therefore I’m getting a slightly bigger car) or having a good time (and therefore I’m going to buy a bowl of chips to share), or even smaller ones like feeling a tad peckish (and therefore I’ll go get some popcorn chicken) or wanting to do a teeny dance (and therefore I’ll put on some old-school Zedd).
Active decision-making is a buzz word that comes to mind. It is protecting the limited time and energy you have within you, opting for a little sliver of selfishness. ‘Hell yeah!’ or not at all.
It is choosing to try that peculiar new pizza flavour with bacon and avocado instead of your default pepperoni and cheese knowing full-well that you might not like it as much, but it could just become your new favourite.
It is looking at a vast set of countries you could head to for your next holiday but choosing to stay home this time because none of the incredible locations spark as much joy as a staycation around friends and family.
It is designing your home with a plentitude of labelled storage boxes, such that each and every item has a place to reside in, in a clean, orderly, aesthetic manner that works exclusively for you - even if the items are a tad expensive and the layout is a little impractical.
It is paving your career path, choosing the skills you want to train and the positions you want to occupy - choosing your allegiance on how much time and mental health you’re willing to surrender for money.
It is pursuing education on your own terms, whether it’s relevant to your job out of sheer interest, whether it’s an accounting accreditation to learning how to woodwork your own table - doing so because you thought it would make a great, fun idea.
It is taking ownership of your mistakes, adopting an internal locus of control where you understand that the misfortunes happening to you might not be your fault, but they are your responsibility to recover from.
I realise from all this that intentional living is not about being the main character.
It’s about being the author.
I like that messaging. Let’s run with that one.
Don’t be the main character — be the author of your story.
prelude iii : thinkers
Addressing the question of what intentionality specifically means to ME - I again say, that’s a difficult question, and I don’t really know.
I don’t know what I want.
Frankly, I don’t think any sane twenty-something year old knows exactly what they want - and if they proclaim that they do, I wonder how much of it is their own thing and how much of it comes from the voices around them i.e. family, friends, influencers, clouded views on societal expectations, etc.
Though, to put at least one bullet point on the board, I think one component to a life of intentionality is living my weeks in a way that I’ll always have something to write about on a Substack article.
It doesn’t have to be much!
A handful of interesting articles I read, an innovative solution we came up with at work, trying out a new recipe or restaurant, or perhaps sharing a song or two that I’ve really been jamming out to.
Recordkeeping is important to me. It builds a sense of progression from one day to the next. It builds a feeling of gratitude towards the many blessings in my life.
(And perhaps by journaling in public, they could be a source of interest or inspiration for you!)
postlude i : doing
Went back to work this past week and I already hate everything. Okay, that’s a little dramatic, I don’t hate my job (the subject matter is often intellectually stimulating, pays relatively well and I’ve got excellent colleagues who make great mentor figures) but if I had to funnel 37.5 hours per week doing something consistently, it most definitely wouldn’t be this. I once made the joke that my dream job would be to go for unnecessarily long walks at scenic locations and write convoluted and inconclusive essays/stories with no direction in particular, and perhaps with this Substack account, I’m at least exemplifying some of that in my spare time. How’s that for intentionality?
A couple days back, during a random walk and all-day writing session, I accidentally chanced upon the University of Sydney campus - the gorgeous, brick-bound, medievally-pronounced often referred to as the Hogwarts of Australia. It’s January so there were a couple of family units taking pictures together at their kid’s future alma meter. I won’t lie, it was actually quite heart-warming to see and a little nostalgic towards my more carefree time at university (not University of Sydney but its competitor, University of New South Wales), between lectures I did not attend, the friends we made along the way and how the pandemic changed everything.
Played some badminton recently! Super fun and suspiciously beginner friendly — the fly-swattingness of badminton is always a fun time. Badminton is by far the most commonly played sport in Indonesia but I never really grew up playing it, instead having Taekwondo and Table Tennis under my belt (provided I am completely washed at both). I’m glad to report that I’m not half bad though and if my little group of friends decide to make it a more regular occurrence during weekends or evenings, I’d happily invest in a cheeky $25 racquet.
My partner and I have made it an action to go for more intentionally-planned dates and scrumptious fine dining spots in 2025. This January, we had dinner at Margaret in Double Bay - an extraordinary establishment known for their seafood but also earning the ranking of third best steakhouse in the world according to World Best Steaks. The 220 gram CopperTree Friesen Fillet in Red Curry Butter and Grilled Shallots was excellent, but certainly couldn’t compare with the miraculous t-bone I had at Bistecca last year (who ranked 45th on the same ranking). At the same time, it’s not quite a fair to compare the more wallet-friendly option on Margaret’s menu to Bistecca’s singular magnus opus. Still, Margaret was a delightful fine dining experience featuring probably the best fish dish I ever had (their signature King George Whiting fillets with Lemon and Olive Oil).
postlude ii : thinking
Here’s a quote I heard recently: “Suffering does not bring you closer to God, but to mankind.” I wish I knew where I got it from, probably a Substack post, but I’m really fond of the imposition that the problems we have are not entirely new, not all-encompassing, but instead renditions of challenges that have existed since the dawn of time, with our own coat of paint. I do not see hardship as divine lessons from above but a grounding act to remind us that we are in fact human, and that problem-solving is not something we have to do alone — we can always tap into the tried expertise of billions of people before us and pass it on to billions of people after.
In October 2023, I read Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way and it was a total invigoration in my creative process. It is now January 2025, and while I do engage in a genuinely solid writing routine that I’m happy with, I’ve eroded pretty much all of her teachings, of which there are honestly just two (Morning Pages, Artist Dates). With my vow of intentionality, I’m inclined to reintroduce Morning Pages (characterised by three pages of nonnegotiable, undisturbed, stream-of-consciousness handwriting first thing in the morning) back into my schedule to help empty my mind, reclaim my mornings and reignite some interest in writing bits of fiction again.
On the topic of fiction, something I really love are those informative, one-sentence blurbs which appear under a show on a streaming platform. In addition to a reasonably appealing cover, it is that snappy collection of 15-20 words that decide whether I watch ‘a heartbreaking story of forbidden love situated during the height of World War II’ or ‘a raunchy, horseback romantasy featuring the swooning Gong Yoo’. I’m putting together a running list of potential premises for stories/books I’d love to have a go at writing. So far, I’ve got ‘a cruel world where supernatural powers are borne from moments of true happiness, cursing the nation into leading a life of monotony’ and ‘a city domineered by three blazing suns, where life takes place in the underground sand mines or the chilling gleam of twin moons’.
On a significantly lighter note, the most recent LumiRank, a six-month ranking system of the top 200 Super Smash Bros Ultimate players worldwide, recently released with Faze Clan’s very own Edgar ‘Sparg0’ Valdez netting number one - an incredible achievement that Sparg0 had gunned for since day one of Ultimate, fulfilling the prophecy that former legend MkLeo proclaimed that it is inevitable for Sparg0 to be number one. Most notably, Sparg0 achieved this with his favourite character Cloud, who is a strong character but certainly not in the top ten echelon, which is emblematic that with dedication, adaptation and skill - anyone has the tools to be top in the world. This is also reflected with a few more uncharacteristic character showings in the top 10 (namely Ryu and Luigi, who are decidedly mid-tier characters in Super Smash Bros. Ultimate). From one Cloud player to another, congratulations Sparg0!
postlude iii : reading
I’ve been trying to establish a short list of writers I look up to on Substack - awesome creators whose work I admire and would like to emulate, whether it’s the topics/concepts they write about, how they do their research and especially the way they tell their stories.
My view is that the best to develop my writing style is to take inspiration from the stories which illicit emotion in me, and bit by bit, Journaling in Public will develop into a newsletter that accurately reflects me and can hopefully be a source of inspiration for others!
As such, I’ve been reading a lot of Substacks from all kinds of people whose interests vaguely intersect with mine - here are a few which I’ve particularly enjoyed.
The Honeymoon Alone by Catherine Shannon - After reading this, I realised I was in desperate need for newsletters who share short stories that so perfectly, eloquently bottle up a vibe. Catherine’s story of a woman on her solo honeymoon is like a bottle of smooth, velvety wine.
Anti-social Goods by Tell the Bees - Tell the Bees puts words to something I could never quite articulate with their thought-provoking article on how communities have become increasing anti-social; not in an awkward, nervous manner - but an ‘I have no respect for communication’ manner, and I feel very heard by it.
People prefer A.I. art because people prefer bad art by Max Read - A.I. art models are improving faster than anyone can possibly draw and without a doubt, they will reach a singularity where they can replicate pretty much everything. Love how Max shares that people prefer kitsch over art and while A.I. can please, I can’t quite provoke - which is the true purpose of art.
Third Place Relationships by Submit Here - Like butter in pan, I adore how Tolly interweaves explanation, interview and narrative in such a seamless, delightful way. This article, covering the idea of third place relationships in addition to third spaces, is exactly how I’d love to structure my writing.
in praise of writing on the internet by personal canon - I’ve had enough of reading people’s 2024 recaps and in-and-out lists but Celine here offers some exceptional insights on writing and how she was able to keep consistent with the whole ordeal. Hopefully, by the end of 2025, I can share some of my own writing successes!
And finally, the best piece of advice I had ever read on Substack that I incorporated almost immediately, getting a platter of hot chips to share with the lads after badminton:
“Order chips at the pub and share them with everyone. Crunchy communal carbs are social lubrication far superior to shots.” - Stella Tsantekidou, 94 practical and emotional optimisers