1 . How to Make Exercise a Habit

The new year is a time when it seems like everyone makes goals to work out and get fit. But by the third week of January, that all seems to go out the window. I’ve seen this happen almost every year: my workout classes are packed with fresh faces.     1     So I will share some tips on how to make exercise a habit, helping you stay healthier in the long run.

Focus on the routine and not the results

These days it feels like everyone is looking for a quick fix or fast results, particularly when it comes to health and fitness.     2     Focus on creating and enjoying the habit. Try scheduling your works alongside one of the other routines you already have in place.

    3    

Everyone seems to want to set big goals of working out 4 times a week with 60-minute sessions. But realistically, if you’re not used to this, it will just be overwhelming and lead you to quit. Given this, doing workouts even as small as5-10 minutes is a good place to start.

Forget the “all or nothing” view

When it comes to exercise, the all or nothing approach does not serve you. Say you plan a workout for today, but say things get crazy at work and you miss your scheduled time. Well that doesn’t mean you’ve failed.     4     Even if you miss your workout, that doesn’t mean you’ve given up. Just remember your results are from your every effort, not matter how small.

Find joy in your workouts

    5     Don’t let yourself be boxed into a certain type of workout just because it’s trendy or everyone is doing them. A workout that suits you will promote your drive and enjoyment.

In the heart of a small village located near a thick bamboo forest in China, there lived a young girl named Lin. Lin lived with her grandmother in a small house that her grandfather had built with loving care before he passed away. Unluckily, Lin’s grandfather died before she was born. Lin never met her grandfather, but the stories her grandmother shared painted a picture of a man who was deeply loved and respected by the community.

Every day, Lin felt a great curiosity about the grandfather she had never seen but always felt close to. Her home, filled with his books and the very walls he built, stood as a living example of his hobbies and craftsmanship (手艺). The villagers often shared tales of her grandfather’s good deeds (行为), and they showed deep respect and support for Lin and her grandmother. This deep connection to a man she had never known filled Lin with a mix of sadness for never having me t him and pride for being his granddaughter. Driven by a desire to feel closer to her grandfather, Lin often explored the house and its surroundings, hoping to find something he had left behind — something that might deepen her understanding of the man   who she had never met.

One autumn morning, while Lin was helping her grandmother clean the attic (阁楼), she found a beautifully carved wooden box hidden under a dust y floorboard. The box was locked, but to her surprise, she discovered a small note hidden in a crack of the box. It was written in lovely handwriting and said, “To my dear granddaughter, inside this box, you will find treasures of my heart, saved just for you.”

Lin’s fingers shook with expectation as she showed the note to her grandmother, who then handed her a small, old key. “Your grandfather wanted you to find this when you were old enough to understand the depth of his love,” her grandmother said, her eyes shining with tears.

With a deep breath, Lin unlocked the box.

From that day on, the diary became Lin’s most cherished (珍爱的) item.

4 . Bobby and I had been friends right when we were five. I had a natural talent and _________ for painting, but Bobby’s life was marked by sorrow. While he had lost his parents, we _________ through our youth together, playing, chatting, loving and studying, until we graduated from college.

I was fortunate enough to find a job that allowed me to _________ my passion for painting. Bobby, on the other hand, seemed to wander _________ in his search for employment. Having heard his situation _________ when he fell ill, I decided to put my career on hold to look after him. When I stepped into his house, _________, a single room that he lived in, I saw it was covered with a layer of dust. Bobby’s only _________ during his days at home was a tree outside his window, holding desperately on to a single leaf.

Bobby would often pour out to me, “If that last leaf falls, I probably won’t _________ either.” Determined to lift his spirits, one early morning, I drew a leaf and tied it to one of the branches. It was so _________ that it appeared as if it belonged to the tree. This leaf never fell; it became Bobby’s symbol of hope.

As time passed, under the silent encouragement of the leaf, Bobby’s health began to __________. Eventually, he was hired as a clerk in a bank close to his home and __________ his enthusiasm for life. It turned out that the leaf I had drawn was more than just an artistic creation — it was an unbreakable __________ of our friendship.

Our experience taught us that sometimes, a simple __________ can have far-reaching effects. Friendship proves to be the most __________ power along our path, even when faced with all challenges. This is the very __________ of life.

As I opened the door, my two little girls squeezed past me, and hit the fridge for their after-school snack. A bag full of research papers begging to be graded fell down heavily from my shoulder onto the table. After a tiring day’s work, I still had to face the mess that was bothering me, including my husband’s doing-nothing and my daughters’ constant talking noisily. While scolding them, I reached for a cup of leftover morning coffee. As I turned towards the coffeepot, I noticed that the morning dishes weren’t in the sink and the counter was clear except for an envelope with my name on it. My heart pounded, as my husband hadn’t written me a love letter since we were engaged. Then I replayed the casual comment I had made that morning “Since you’re working evenings this week, it would be nice if you’d do something to help out around the house while you’re home.”

I picked up the letter, expecting an apology. But when I read the first line, my heart sank. “I’m tired of being accused of not helping around the house. I am tired of you scolding children every day. Yesterday, I washed the windows. Did you notice? I also picked up your car from school and took it for an oil change. I bet you didn’t notice that either, did you? Of course nor did you notice our daughters prepared coffees well every morning.”

The letter continued in the same tone—a little anger, a lot of hurt—and I deserved every word. The truth was when he worked evening shift, I envied the solitude (独处) he enjoyed by day. He spent hours alone in a quiet house while I took on the parenting role for both of us at night—dinner, homework, baths, bedtime. Then I graded papers or made lesson plans while losing my temper occasionally before I collapsed into bed. But who had time for clothes washing? For dirty floors? Not me, because my husband did.

I folded the letter and slid it inside the envelope to hide his words and my shame.

Hardly had I finished writing the letter when our younger daughter skipped in.

Ethan was a young man living in a small town. He was a bright soul with dreams, but he was also trapped by the chains of fear and doubt.

Ethan worked at a small bookshop, yet deep within, he had a strong desire to become a painter. Every evening, as the setting sun painted the sky in orange and pink, Ethan would sit by his window, a blank canvas (油画布) before him. Yet, no stroke (笔画) graced the canvas. The fear of failure and the whispers of doubt prevented him from painting. “What if I’m not good enough?” he often thought.

One cold autumn evening, an unexpected visitor came knocking at Ethan’s door-Mrs. Wilkins, an elderly well-known woman of wisdom. “Ethan,” she began gently, “I’ve noticed the light in your room night after night, and yet, I’ve seen no color grace the world from your hands. Why is that?”

Ethan sighed, the weight of his unspoken dreams heavy on his shoulders. He whispered, “I’m afraid that I’ll never be good enough and that my work will never touch the hearts of others.”

Mrs. Wilkins smiled, a kind, understanding smile. “Ethan,” she said, drawing closer, “let me tell you a story of a young bird, much like yourself, afraid to leave its nest. The little bird was always scared at the thought of flight. Day after day, it watched other birds fly into the sky, while it remained where it was, full of fear. The bird feared the unknown, feared failure, and most of all, feared that its wings were not strong enough to carry it. But then, one day, a storm approached, and the little bird had no choice but to jump into the storm. It was not an easy journey; the winds were very strong, and the rain blinded its eyes. Yet, with each flap (拍打) of its wings, the bird realized that it was able to fly.”

Ethan felt a sense of warmth and hope wash over him as Mrs. Wilkins spoke.

That night, for the first time in many years, Ethan picked up his brush.

My family had only recently moved into a new neighborhood. All of my neighbors have been very friendly and helpful since we moved in.

However, Mrs Davis, an elderly lady living in the last house on the other side of the road, escaped associating with us, or anyone else. When I asked around the neighborhood why, they warned me not to go after her because they thought she was insane (精神失常的) and preferred staying alone after losing her husband and only daughter in an aircraft crash. After that, she stayed isolated (孤立的) from all the neighbors, refusing all the care and help.

I often saw her on the streets during the evening, but she was always by herself. She appeared weak and I always wanted to help her, but after hearing what my neighbors had said about her, I wasn’t sure whether I should.

One day, when I was on my way to the supermarket, our paths crossed. I was walking past her and overheard her singing a tune. It immediately drew my attention because my parents used to sing the same song with me. I began to sing along with her, and she smiled at me for the first time. But when I smiled back, she quickly hurried her pace and went home.

She seemed very different to me that day. I refused to trust my neighbors’ claims that she had cut herself off from the rest of society because she was insane, so the next day, I knocked on her door. Mrs Davis was home, and instead of letting me in, she just looked at me silently through the window. I noticed her staring at me and was about to walk to the window when she quickly closed the curtains.

The next day, I revisited her house. “Hello, I brought you something,” I called out to her. “It’s the record of the music you were singing yesterday.”

The door opened and Mrs Davis’ eyes widened in surprise at the sight of me standing there.

Several days later in the morning, the doorbell rang at my house.

It was a warm Sunday. 16-year-old Stella settled down with a book, enjoying her quiet moment when her friend Bog came over with his 6-year-old sister. “Stella, please! I need you to help to watch Hazel! I have a lecture to attend this afternoon,” Bog begged.

Stella frowned, not thrilled with the idea of babysitting a little girl. However, Bog didn’t offer her any other choice. He dropped Hazel off with Stella and quickly ran away before she could react.

With a heavy sigh, Stella unwillingly turned her attention to Hazel. “Fine, just stay there and don’t cause any trouble,” she grumbled (嘟囔). To her surprise, little Hazel smiled and obediently sat by the table, drawing quietly without making a single noise.

For the next hour, Stella was quietly engaged in reading without being disturbed by Hazel. Gradually, her annoyance disappeared and she got accustomed to the company of Hazel. After a while, Hazel cautiously approached Stella, holding a picture. “Look, it’s you and me,” she said in a low voice. It was a simple drawing of two girls, hand in hand, smiling.

Stella’s heart softened as she looked at the drawing. She felt guilty about treating Hazel impatiently. Setting her book aside, Stella smiled warmly and said, “I love it. Thank you!” Then Stella began to join Hazel to create it together.

Just as they were lost in a world of colors, a sudden phone ringing broke the warm atmosphere. It was a phone call from her friend, reminding her about the long-awaited plan to go skating on the ice rink (溜冰场). Stella’s heart sank because she had forgotten all about it. She was torn between the desire to go skating and her duty to look after Hazel. She was also worried that taking her to skate would prevent her from enjoying gliding (滑) freely on the ice.

As Stella hesitated, Hazel looked up at her with hopeful eyes.

Hazel admiringly watched Stella and her friends gliding on the ice.