1 The Comfort a Space Offers

Do you have spaces that make you feel calm or tense without quite knowing why? Or do you willingly make the effort to seek out places you’re drawn to?
Parts of our research facility appear in the film No Other Choice. I’ve heard that director Chan-wook Park was captivated by the distinctive character of our company’s research spaces. The term “research facility” typically conjures something rather sterile—research suggests logic over emotion, rigidity over softness. Yet despite its research purpose, when viewed purely as a space, it possesses the aesthetic power of an art museum, which is perhaps why it could serve as a backdrop on screen.

2 Scenes Within Frames, and Discovery

There was a time when photography was my hobby. As I traveled to different places to take photos, I discovered that I’m someone who loves places and spaces. Sometimes a space conveys its own message—the simple intersection of lines and planes can stir emotions and draw you into deep contemplation, without any special devices or installations.

I currently work on the first floor of Sungji-gwan. During my time here, I’ve been fortunate enough to work on every floor of the building, but I’m particularly fond of where I am now. When I turn my head, the natural landscape unfolds right at eye level. I can comfortably enjoy the outdoors. I’m grateful to experience the changing seasons together with the beauty of the research facility’s well-maintained gardens.
I’ve realized I’m especially drawn to what I call ‘scenes within frames’—views through windows that look like framed paintings. My favorite hidden spot is the stairwell connecting the first and second floors (it has a bit of that Platform 9¾ feeling from Harry Potter). It’s an ordinary place I pass through multiple times a day, nothing extraordinary about it really. Yet for me, the view that unfolds beyond the glass holds fresh appeal every time. As I prepared this piece, I was surprised to find quite a collection of photos I’d taken while passing through. It made me realize just how much I truly love this spot, why I’ve always tried to capture it.

3 My Secret Garden, the Magnolia

Let me share another memory of scenery. Before Sungji-gwan was remodeled, I worked at a desk where a magnolia tree stood right before my eyes. The spot was usually shaded, so even well into spring, I could enjoy the beautiful purple magnolia blooms lingering late. When I moved to a different team, I passed along to my junior colleague what I called my “handover notes”—that this was the seat where you could enjoy the magnolia. Later, that colleague told me, “You were the only senior who ever mentioned something like that.” That comment has stayed with me.

In the tension-filled life of working at a company, having a time or place where you can find small moments of leisure holds real value. It’s like having your own secret spot that no one else knows about.

4 Gathering the Pieces of Being Myself

While writing several pieces on the theme of being myself, I’ve thought endlessly about what it actually means to be myself. But I don’t think I’ve found any answer that makes me say, “That’s exactly it!”
Sometimes I’m the version of me brimming with groundless confidence, yet also the me who flounders against reality’s walls. The me who draws strength from being with colleagues, but also the me who sometimes seeks a room of my own to recharge. All of these are ‘pieces of being myself.’

As one way of completing these pieces of myself, how about creating your own hidden spot where you can enjoy moments of leisure amid the busyness? I think that small space can help, even in a modest way, in understanding and accepting who we are.
Honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll get to enjoy this view and this space. The opportunities to climb the stairs between the first and second floors will likely become fewer. But since I don’t know what the future holds, I’m trying to stay present—to love and enjoy it even more now.

As I pass through the same spot each day, I expect I’ll keep finding myself thinking, “Ah, I really do love this scene.” In the end, being myself isn’t about grand beliefs or definitions—it’s that place I’m willing to walk toward when a brief moment opens in my day, that instant when I steady my breathing as I watch the seasons change through a window. I think it’s built from these small things gathering together.