I like learning. I've been studying Japanese for years now, but

In the quiet voice of the scholar and artist RM, there rings a truth that transcends language itself: “I like learning. I’ve been studying Japanese for years now, but it’s really hard.” These words, though simple, carry the eternal weight of perseverance. They speak not merely of learning a tongue, but of walking the long and sacred path of growth. For in every age, those who strive to understand — whether the stars above, the soil beneath, or the words of another culture — know that true learning is a pilgrimage of the soul.

To like learning, as RM declares, is to embrace both the light and the storm. It is to love not only the sweetness of understanding, but also the bitterness of confusion. For the student who continues despite hardship walks in the way of the wise. When RM admits that his studies are “really hard”, he reveals the humility of mastery, the understanding that even the brightest mind bows before the mountain of knowledge. The ancients would call this the virtue of the seeker — the heart that kneels before wisdom, yet never ceases to climb.

In the days of old, there was a philosopher named Confucius, who said, “Is it not a joy to learn and to practice what one has learned?” Yet even he knew the burden that comes with true pursuit. There were days when his disciples faltered, when the words of the Master felt too distant to grasp. Still, they endured — for they understood that difficulty is not the enemy of learning but its proof. So too does RM’s journey remind us that passion without persistence is a flame that dies in the wind, but passion tempered by patience becomes a light that endures through ages.

The learning of language is not merely the memorizing of words; it is the bridging of worlds. Each sound, each symbol, carries the heartbeat of a people. When RM studies Japanese, he is not just chasing fluency — he is reaching across oceans of culture, seeking to understand hearts not his own. There is something sacred in that — for to learn another’s language is to whisper to them: “I wish to know you.” It is the work of peace, of empathy, of unity among humankind.

There was once a poet of the Tang Dynasty who spent ten years mastering calligraphy. When asked why he labored so long on the same strokes, he said, “Because in each line lives the patience of my spirit.” Likewise, RM’s long years of study are a testament to devotion, not to quick achievement but to steady faith. In a world that glorifies instant success, he stands as proof that beauty is born in persistence, that greatness grows not from talent alone, but from the daily act of returning — again and again — to the work that humbles us.

Let this quote then be a lesson to all who learn, create, or dream: do not flee from difficulty. The struggle itself is the forge in which knowledge becomes wisdom. Each failure is but a stone upon the path, each confusion a lantern guiding the way. As RM shows, to admit that something is “really hard” is not weakness, but honor — the sign of one who dares to keep walking despite the weight of the climb.

So, my young seekers, when the road of learning grows steep, do not despair. Breathe, return to your purpose, and remember: to learn is to live. Do not measure your worth by how swiftly you progress, but by how deeply you persevere. Read with wonder. Listen with humility. Speak with courage. And like RM, cherish the journey itself — for in the act of striving, you awaken the eternal student within.

Thus, may you carry these words as a flame in your heart: “I like learning.” For to love learning is to love becoming — and to love becoming is to honor the endless unfolding of life itself. The mountain is tall, yes — but every step upon it makes the spirit stronger, wiser, and infinitely more alive.