Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.

In high school,

a teacher once told us:

Studying is the best way to change your destiny.

I believed it completely.

I wasn’t a top student.

My grades were never impressive.

But I still followed that direction,

because I trusted his words.

With time,

I began to see the limits of that sentence.

It belongs to a specific moment,

and a specific context.

For those who reach the very top through academics,

it may still be true.

For the rest of us,

other skills matter just as much.

Learning how to connect with people.

Knowing how to choose.

Understanding what to hold on to,

and what to let go.

That teacher didn’t give me a perfect answer.

But he gave me a starting point.

And sometimes,

that’s enough to change the course of a life.

What skills or lessons have you learned recently?

I filled my life with self-taught violin practice,

only to learn something more important along the way—

focus is what gives time its weight.

Tell us one thing you hope people say about you.

Not because you are perfect.

Not because you are the strongest.

But because, when it truly matters,

people know you will be there.

Tell us about your first day at something — school, work, as a parent, etc.

When I think about a “first day,”

it’s not school.

Not work.

It’s my first time going abroad.

Because of money,

it didn’t happen early.

No gap year.

No student trip.

I had already been working for three or four years

when I finally left the country—

with colleagues,

for work.

It wasn’t a vacation.

There were schedules.

Tasks.

A bit of pressure.

But when the plane took off,

I felt it.

The world suddenly became larger.

Looking out of the window,

above the clouds,

I realized something simple:

I was no longer just imagining the outside world.

I was inside it.

That trip didn’t change my life overnight.

No big revelation.

No dramatic turning point.

But it taught me this:

some doors don’t open because you hesitate.

They open when you are finally stable enough

to push them.

The joy of my first trip abroad

came a little late—

but it felt solid.

Have you ever performed on stage or given a speech?

I’ve never given a formal speech.

But every year, I teach several internal training sessions at work.

System flows, tools, setups —

nothing motivational, nothing dramatic.

Just making things clear,

so people can actually use them.

I don’t particularly enjoy standing in front.

But when something finally “clicks” for the team,

there’s a quiet sense of achievement.

No spotlight.

Just steady teaching, year after year.

What are your favorite physical activities or exercises?

I enjoy cycling.

But with my schedule, I’ve learned to compromise.

So I take the stairs at work.

And I get on the treadmill or the elliptical two to three times a week.

Nothing intense — just a rhythm I can keep.

What is something others do that sparks your admiration?

I’ve always admired people who do the right thing without worrying about the cost.

That kind of justice feels almost unreal.

But the more I think about it, the more it sounds like a machine.

Rules in, actions out.

No fear, no hesitation, no price to pay.

No wonder some people believe in it.

It looks clean. Simple. Steady.

But humans aren’t like that.

We hesitate. We soften. We think about consequences.

Maybe that’s exactly why our sense of justice still matters.

What could you do less of?

I’ve never been good at tolerating detours — or long, winding explanations.

If a conversation drifts, I want to pull it back.

If someone talks too much, I get impatient.

But maybe I need to soften that edge.

Give people more room.

Let things unfold without pushing for efficiency every second.

So maybe this is what I could do less of:

Less impatience.

More tolerance.

A little more space for others — and for myself.