Luda’s Life Notes: A Late-Night Read for Anyone Who Keeps Saying “Just Endure It.”

I’m your old friend, Luda. This week, I want to tell three stories. They’re about everyday life, social observations, and secrets from the counselling room. Although they take place in very different settings, when I sat down and reflected on them, I realised they all reveal the same underlying logic of life. I hope these three stories offer you some insight.

01. The Green Pool and a Covered-Up Marriage

The first story comes from a small moment in my recent life.

Living in Melbourne, you get used to its temperamental “four seasons in a day” weather, with huge temperature swings between day and night. A few days ago, when I went to clean the pool and lifted that thick cover, what I saw wasn’t clear water—but a shocking expanse of green.

It took me several days to restore the pool to clarity.

And at one moment, while staring blankly at the water, I suddenly realised: the process of fixing a pool is remarkably similar to our lives—especially marriage.

Many people’s marriages are like that pool hidden under a cover. On the surface, the cover might be a little dusty, but it still looks fine—presentable, even new. But if you have the courage to lift a corner and take a look inside, the water underneath has long since deteriorated, turning an unbearable green.

It’s like those affectionate couple photos on social media—that’s the cover shown to outsiders. Beneath it, the couple has long stopped sharing what’s really in their hearts. At home, conversations are reduced to logistics—who picks up the kids, who buys groceries. Anything more feels exhausting. They sleep separately, thinking only: “Just endure it. Let’s get the kids raised first.”

Most people take one look, are repelled by what they see, and quietly put the cover back on.

Some deceive themselves: “Maybe this is just what marriage is like.”
More feel powerless: “Life is too busy. I can’t deal with this. Let it be.”

They wait until one day the smell becomes unbearable—or until someone cheats—and then they simply fill in the pool (divorce) and move on.

To be honest, the people who come to me for marriage counselling probably make up less than 1% of those facing these issues. I often tell my clients: you are incredibly brave.

Because you dare to lift the cover, admit “this pool is a mess,” and decide, “I’m going to fix it.”

Of course, fixing a green pool alone is difficult. You need to test the water, just as you need external help—like a counsellor—to diagnose the “water quality” of a marriage.

And the hardest part? When you start adding chemicals (begin healing), the water often becomes even murkier at first.

At that point, you have to let it play out for a while.
This is the necessary path before things get better.

02. Elite Anxiety and the Vitality of Wild Growth

If the pool is a metaphor for family, then my recent trip back home showed me another kind of “cover” at the societal level.

Although it was a short, almost parachute-like visit, I managed to meet a few old friends.

The first is a primary school classmate. She graduated from a top university, worked in multinational corporations, and earned a million RMB a year—a textbook “success story.” But when we met this time, something was clearly off.

She had been unemployed for six months.

She said she had been reading and exercising, living quite freely. As a Shanghai local with no mortgage, survival isn’t an issue. But the anxiety in her eyes was impossible to hide. She had already gone through nearly ten rounds of interviews with no response.

Though she doesn’t worry about basic living, the uncertainty of the future—especially her child’s potential overseas education costs—has deeply unsettled this once-secure middle-class elite.

The second is an old colleague from IBM. He told me that most of our former teammates have left, whether voluntarily or not. Once-glorious multinational companies are now offering worse severance packages, while private and state-owned enterprises are rising.

The situation of foreign companies in China today is sobering.

The “35-year-old curse” hangs over everyone like the Sword of Damocles, fuelling an increasingly intense culture of competition.

These two friends represent what we once believed to be the “standard path to success”—elite education, prestigious companies, high income. But when the environment changes and the cover is lifted, the fragility beneath is exposed.

In contrast, the third person left a deep impression on me.

He was actually my airport driver. Over the years, I’ve always contacted him when I return, so we’ve become familiar. He doesn’t have a high level of education—he left school after junior high—but he has worked construction, sales, and run restaurants.

This time, he picked me up in a high-end domestic electric business vehicle, showing me features like autonomous driving and seat massage (which amazed me, living in “rural” Australia).

In conversation, I learned that he now runs a private car service, owns several vehicles, and has bought multiple properties in Shanghai. He shared many insider perspectives on his industry. Not only was he free of anxiety, but he radiated a kind of raw, “wild growth” vitality.

That’s when I realised: regardless of education level, whether in a multinational company or out in the “wild,” true competitive advantage always comes down to three things—courage to act, the ability to think, and relentless effort.

What we call “fate” is often just a fixed mindset.

If you only compete within predefined tracks, your destiny may already be set. But if you have the awareness and courage for wild growth, you might break through something that seems as immovable as the “35-year-old curse.”

03. The Body’s Cry for Help and a Final Awakening

The last story comes from my counselling room (details anonymised).

The client is a woman living in Canada, a mother of four. She has lived with her mother-in-law and husband for over 20 years. During that time, she endured countless instances of mistreatment and humiliation from her mother-in-law. Her husband, a typical “mummy’s boy” with blind filial piety, was always absent in conflicts—sometimes even enabling the harm.

When she came to me, she asked a question that seemed complicated, but whose answer was actually obvious:

“Is this marriage still worth saving?”

After we explored her thoughts and strategies in depth, I asked her a question that had been buried in my mind for a long time:

“Why now? You endured this for 20 years—why do you suddenly want to change?”

Her answer left me silent for a long time.

She said:
“Because last year, several of my friends passed away from cancer. Their marriages were also unhappy—they endured everything. Recently, I’ve also developed some health issues. It’s not cancer, but I’m scared. I don’t want to end up like them. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

In that moment, I felt a deep sense of reflection.

Life is incredibly wise.

When our minds are numbed by fear, habit, or reasons like “for the children,” our bodies honestly record every cost. When that “cover” becomes too heavy for us to breathe, life will force us to wake up—in its own way.

Through illness, fear, or witnessing death, it pushes us to face reality, to lift that long-rotting pool cover, and to finally make the decision that may be 20 years overdue.

Closing Thoughts

At their core, all things in life follow the same logic.

In marriage, we cover problems with “just getting by.”
In our careers, we hide behind past glory to ignore changing realities.
In life itself, we silence our bodies with “just endure it.”

But problems never disappear just because we cover them.
They ferment and decay in the dark.

What we call personal growth is, in essence, the courage to “lift the cover.”

Whether in relationships, career choices, or facing life and health, may we gain this awareness sooner—before the water becomes beyond saving, before the body completely breaks down.

If this letter resonated with you, perhaps it’s worth sharing with someone you care about. Every share is a gesture of connection.

And I’d love to hear from you.

After reading these three stories, did you think of a “cover” in your own life?
Maybe it’s something in your marriage you avoid, a confusion in your career, or a signal from your body.

Feel free to leave a comment and share your thoughts, reflections, or even just a small complaint about life right now. I will read every message carefully. I may not reply instantly due to a busy schedule, but I promise to read them all.

Wishing you a pleasant week ahead.