The Two Paths of Learning: Training and Observation

We’re always learning—whether we realize it or not. But not all learning happens the same way. Some lessons come from structured instruction; others sneak in quietly through observation. As I reflect on my own journey—through leadership, academia, and personal growth—I’ve come to see these two paths as essential, complementary, and powerful in different ways.

1. Learning by Training: The Power of Structure

This is the kind of learning we associate with classrooms, certifications, online courses, or coaching. It’s formal, deliberate, and often efficient. You’re taught the steps, the why behind them, and the expected outcomes. It’s the world of frameworks, blueprints, and best practices.

I’ve relied on this kind of learning many times—when preparing for a new role, earning a certification, or diving into a new field. It gives clarity and accelerates mastery. But it has its limits. Training can tell you what to do and how to do it, but it doesn’t always show you when to apply it, or why it matters on a human level.

2. Learning by Observation: The Art of Absorption

Then there’s the quieter kind of learning—the one that happens when no one is officially teaching. You learn by watching how a colleague handles conflict, how a mentor speaks in meetings, or how a friend responds to challenge. This path is slower, less predictable, but often deeper.

I’ve learned some of the most important lessons in leadership and life simply by observing others. How someone listens. How they remain calm in chaos. How they navigate ambiguity with grace. These lessons can’t be taught in a slide deck. They must be witnessed.

And sometimes, the most impactful observations are those that teach us how not to act.

There have been moments where watching someone interrupt, dismiss, or act from ego made something crystal clear: I don’t want to be like that. These moments can be just as formative as witnessing excellence. They sharpen our values and guide our choices, often more powerfully than a textbook ever could.

The Dance Between the Two

Neither path is better—they work best together. Training gives us a foundation. Observation gives us nuance. One gives us the map; the other helps us read the terrain. Together, they build not only knowledge but also wisdom.

As Aristotle might say, we don’t just learn by knowing—we learn by doing, imitating, and reflecting. He explores these key philosophical ideas about learning and knowledge in his works, particularly the Nicomachean Ethics and Poetics.

A Question to Reflect On

Where in your life are you relying too much on training and not enough on observation? Or vice versa?

Sometimes the next lesson is right in front of us—quietly unfolding in someone else’s actions, or reactions.

What I Learned in My Second Semester of the PhD (Beyond Theory and Methods)

I just finished my second semester of the PhD, and today I’m allowing myself to fully rest — and to fully celebrate.

These past weeks have been intense. Between final essays, presentations, and all the mental load that comes with academic life, I found myself running on pure determination at times. But here I am, on the other side of the storm, and it feels like a moment worth pausing for.

This semester wasn’t just about theories and research methods. It was about endurance. About carving out time to think while managing work, life, and everything in between. It was about showing up to class even when I was tired, and still finding myself moved by a line in a book, a discussion with classmates, or a quiet insight that came unexpectedly.

It was also a semester full of new skills and challenges — the kind I didn’t expect when I first signed up for this journey.

I learned about the publishing process, as the school is working on publishing a book that will include a chapter from each of our theses. Seeing our academic work take on a more public shape is both exciting and humbling.
I also learned how to conduct and edit a video interview, which was part of an assignment that pushed me to connect with someone else’s story in a deeper way.
And I recorded my first podcast episodes, learning the basics of scripting, recording, and sharing ideas through audio. I never thought I’d enjoy podcasting so much — but I did.

More than anything, this semester reminded me that growth often happens in silence — in the late-night reading sessions, the late classes on Mondays and Saturday mornings when I had to talk myself into staying focused, and the afternoons I spent editing the same paragraph over and over. It taught me that I’m more resilient than I thought, and that my desire to learn is stronger than any obstacle in my schedule.

There were also small victories that I hold close: the moment an assignment came together, a thoughtful comment from a professor, or the realization that a concept I struggled with last semester now feels like second nature. Those moments remind me that this journey is working — little by little, it’s shaping the way I see the world and the way I see myself.

Next semester, I want to carry this learning with more gentleness. I want to keep being disciplined, yes, but also kinder to myself in the process. I’ve come to understand that rest is not a reward — it’s part of the work.

Today, I’m simply resting. But beneath the calm, there’s a quiet sense of pride. Because this wasn’t easy — and I did it anyway.

It’s Not About the Answers — It’s About the Questions

Learning has always felt like an old friend to me — a companion that has walked beside me through every stage of my life. From the time I opened my dad’s books and realized that entire worlds lived inside its pages, to the many times I’ve sat in classrooms, webinars, coffee shops, or simply by myself with a notebook, chasing a new idea — learning has been one of the purest sources of joy, curiosity, and growth for me.

In a world that moves faster than ever, where knowledge doubles and industries transform seemingly overnight, the ability to learn is no longer just a nice-to-have. It’s essential. But beyond necessity, I believe learning is what keeps us vibrant, humble, and connected to the vastness of life. It’s the art of becoming — again and again.

In this post, I want to share a little bit about where my love for learning comes from, how my understanding of learning has evolved, and a few strategies that have helped me become a better learner over time. Whether you consider yourself a lifelong student or are simply looking to reconnect with your curiosity, I hope you’ll find something here that inspires you to embrace learning in your own way.

Where My Love for Learning Comes From

My love of learning comes from my parents. My dad loves reading, and my mom loves schools—it’s probably the most beautiful gift they could have given me. Growing up surrounded by books, curiosity, and encouragement made learning feel less like a task and more like an exciting part of life.

Through my academic journey, I’ve had the chance to develop solid learning skills. I graduated at the top of my class in high school and earned an Excellence Award at university for maintaining grades above 95 (out of 100). But beyond the grades, what stayed with me was a deep belief: learning is something natural. I trust our brain’s and body’s innate abilities—just as our body knows how to move, our brain knows how to learn. The key is consistency. Small daily steps, in both movement and learning, lead to steady and lasting growth.

I still remember walking around our living room with a stack of index cards, studying for exams. Pacing back and forth, reading the concepts aloud to myself, I could almost feel the ideas settling in deeper with every step. I also loved studying at the school library — it became one of my favorite places. I would find a quiet corner, put on my earphones, listen to music, and dive into my notes. Surrounded by the soft rustle of pages and the quiet hum of concentration, learning felt peaceful, almost like entering a world of my own.

At home, my mom was always by my side in her own way. She would never go to bed until I had finished studying or doing my homework. No matter how late it was, she stayed awake, sometimes offering me food, tea or tomato juice, quietly encouraging me without ever rushing me. Her silent support made those long nights feel less lonely and reminded me that I wasn’t on this journey alone.

Those small, focused moments, repeated over time, built not just knowledge but a deep sense of trust in the learning process — and a deep gratitude for the people who believed in me.

My Learning Methods

Over time, I’ve developed a simple and effective approach to learning that has supported me through school, work, and personal projects:

Mind Maps: I discovered mind maps in high school when one of our teachers would draw them on the whiteboard. Since then, they’ve become one of my favorite tools for breaking down new topics, organizing ideas, and planning complex work projects. Today, I use digital tools like Freemind, Freeplane, and MindNode (for Mac) to create mind maps more efficiently and keep them organized across different areas of my life.
Index Cards: I also love index cards. Whenever I learn something new, I summarize the concepts on cards—sometimes even drawing mini mind maps on them! Reviewing my cards became a habit, often while walking around or during short breaks. Nowadays, I also use Anki, a digital flashcard app that uses spaced repetition, reviewing information at carefully timed intervals. I’ve learned that spaced repetition helps knowledge settle more naturally into long-term memory compared to cramming everything at once.
Reading: Whenever I want to dive deep into a new topic, I find the three most relevant books and read them back to back. This method helps me grasp the essential ideas and see different perspectives without getting overwhelmed by too much information at once.
Notetaking: I’m a big fan of building a personal knowledge system. I enjoy using apps like Notion and Obsidian to organize my notes, capture insights from books, and track my learning progress. Having a digital space to connect ideas has made my learning deeper and more flexible over time.
Self-Explanation: Another technique that has helped me is explaining concepts out loud to myself, as if I were teaching them to someone else. If I can explain an idea clearly and simply, I know I truly understand it. It’s a small habit, but it has made a big difference in how deeply I learn.

A Lesson from Cambridge: The Power of Questions

A few years ago, I had the chance to meet Ali Abdaal in Cambridge. What surprised me the most wasn’t just his knowledge or accomplishments — it was the sheer amount of questions he asked. His curiosity was almost endless.

At that moment, something clicked for me: learning and intelligence aren’t about the answers we give, but about the questions we dare to ask ourselves.

School often emphasizes having the right replies, but true learning, the kind that stays with us and transforms us, begins with asking better and deeper questions.

Since then, I’ve tried to focus less on having immediate answers and more on nurturing thoughtful questions — trusting that the answers will come in their own time.

One practice that has helped me is elaborative questioning: asking myself “Why does this work this way?”, “What happens if I change this?”, or “How is this connected to what I already know?” Turning learning into a conversation with myself makes it richer and more memorable.

Learning Isn’t Always Easy

Learning is deeply rewarding, but it’s not always easy. There are days when the concepts seem confusing, the motivation feels low, or progress appears invisible. Over the years, I’ve realized these moments are not signs of failure — they are natural milestones. Learning is rarely a straight path; it’s full of little frustrations and moments of doubt.

But if we trust the process and stay consistent, these small efforts compound into something meaningful and lasting.

Micro-Tips for Better Learning

Here are a few simple strategies that have helped me along the way:

Start with questions. Curiosity lights the path far better than pressure.
Break it down. Small, manageable chunks make big goals feel less overwhelming.
Teach what you learn. Explaining it to someone else deepens your understanding.
Review regularly. A few minutes a week to revisit your notes can make a big difference.
Allow imperfection. Mastery grows through mistakes and revision, not instant perfection.

An Invitation to Curiosity

Learning, for me, has never been about rushing. It’s about building a relationship with curiosity, one small step at a time.

It’s about trusting that even on the days when progress feels invisible, growth is quietly happening underneath.

Wherever you are in your own learning journey, I invite you to nurture that spark of curiosity within you. Pick up a book. Ask a question. Make a mind map. Summarize what you just learned.

Because every small step you take adds to the lifelong adventure of becoming more of who you are meant to be.

The Lessons I Didn’t Expect from Starting a PhD (That Has Nothing to Do with My Research)

When I started my PhD in Human Development, I thought the most challenging part would be the research itself—designing a study, collecting data, analyzing it, and writing up the results. And while that part is no walk in the park, what’s surprised me the most are the unexpected life lessons that come with the process.

I started my PhD studies 7 months ago—it wasn’t in my 2024 plans. I decided last minute to join the program, and it was a five-minute decision. Someone I trust and admire very much recommended it. I sent a quick email asking for info—I knew nothing about the program. I attended one class to see if I liked it, and the next thing I know, I’m enrolled.

It is said that the people you surround yourself with have a big impact on your life. I now realize that I had been spending time with people who were doing a PhD or a postdoc. I didn’t fully notice how much of an influence that had on me, so when the time came, it was a surprisingly easy decision.

I guess you’re never really ready. And that’s okay. Starting before you feel ready teaches you to trust yourself and grow into the role.

Choosing a Research Topic

On the first day of class, I was asked, “So, what do you want your research to be about?”—and I had no clue. A PhD program wasn’t in my 2024 plans, and I only had a few days to decide. The best advice I was given came from one of my PhD professors: “Just make sure you choose something you like very, very much. Otherwise, you will lose interest or abandon the PhD program.” That made the decision easier. I knew I loved learning about habits.

The Art of Time and Energy Management

The next challenge was to find the time to attend classes, work on essays, read books and research papers, and write my thesis. More than scheduling—it’s learning to protect your energy, say no, and prioritize what truly matters. I had to make many changes to my schedule and the way my weeks flowed. Doing a PhD requires lots of focus and concentration, so I had to learn when I’m most productive and reserve that time for research and writing.

Doing a PhD is not just an academic journey. It’s an emotional, psychological, and even physical one. I’ve had to learn to manage my time in a way I never had to before. I’ve had to be kinder to myself on days when things felt overwhelming. And I’ve discovered a level of perseverance I didn’t know I had.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that progress is not always visible. There are days—weeks even—when you feel like nothing is moving. But in hindsight, you realize that the internal shifts, the tiny mindset changes, the ability to sit with discomfort, are all part of the process.

Another lesson: boundaries. When you’re juggling a PhD, work, and life, you have to get really good at saying no. And not just to others, but to your own desire to do everything perfectly. Perfectionism doesn’t survive in a PhD program. Flexibility does.

The Importance of Community and Vulnerability

Whether it’s classmates, professors, friends, or loved ones, having people who remind you that you’re not alone makes all the difference.

Doing a PhD has stretched me in every direction. But it’s also made me more grounded, more compassionate, more patient, and more in tune with my values. I didn’t expect that when I started. But I’m grateful for it.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed most is sharing experiences with my classmates. We are always contacting each other on chat groups or calling to clarify things we learned in class, or just to support one another when we feel lost.

We all come from different backgrounds, but we share a love for learning. If you could see our classes, you would see that sometimes we don’t agree with each other—and that’s part of the beauty. We have such different points of view, but we remain open to hearing one another and disagreeing with respect.

Learning to Speak Up

I must admit that the PhD has made me more extroverted. At the beginning, I didn’t want to talk much, and the professors encouraged me to speak more.

One of the things I’ve also found myself enjoying is sharing what I’m learning with everyone. People get curious when I tell them I’m researching habits, wellness, and happiness. I always say, “I’m just beginning my PhD,” but it leads to very interesting conversations.

If you’re on a similar path, or thinking about it, know this: it’s not just about the degree. It’s about who you become along the way. Looking back, I didn’t just sign up for a PhD—I signed up for growth in all its messy, beautiful forms.