An Interview with Min Ji Yoo, author of The Psychology of Luck

Korean TV producer Min Ji Yoo shares her wisdom on how luck is made, exploring the link between luck and personal success.

Q. You grew up in a family of shamans. How do you reinterpret this traditional Korean shamanistic faith within a modern context today?

A. Until just a few years ago, many Koreans would picture a shrine as a frightening, gloomy space, and imagine shamans as figures in brightly colored hanbok with heavy makeup, yelling at or scolding people. Indeed, in dramas and films, shamans have long been repeatedly portrayed in this manner. With such external appearances and symbols emphasized, the folk beliefs of the past were easily perceived as objects of fear, an unknown and mysterious world, a religion without structure, or a rootless faith for the poor or the blindly devout.

The background for the formation of these images lies in how shamanistic customs were transmitted between generations without an explanation for the "why’s" behind the customs.  The customs were passed on using a language of burden and coercion: "it's just the way it is," "it must be observed," "it's good, so you must do it unconditionally."

For example, in Korea's past, there was a saying that when moving house, the rice cooker must be the first item brought into the new house for good fortune. Yet, without knowing the any precise explanation for the meaning and history of the custom, parents would call their busy children who were moving and insistently hector them, "Did you bring the rice cooker in first?!" And it's no wonder—if the children asked the parents, "Why? Why must we do it that way?" the parents’ answers were mostly vague: "That's how it was done in the old days!" or "I don't know! Grandma said so!" Because the adults themselves had never heard the reason either.

Consequently, to the younger generation, traditional shamanistic beliefs often felt outdated, and lacked valid justification, like cumbersome superstitions. But in the case of the rice cooker, the reason is actually very simple. In the past, in Korean society, 'eating well' meant 'living well'. In an era without today's abundance of consumption and choices, a life where food never ran out symbolized stability and wealth itself. Therefore, in Korea, the saying "having the fortune to eat well" has been considered very important since ancient times. This didn't simply mean eating a lot of food but rather signified a state where one didn't go hungry and the basics of life were maintained.

In this context, the rice cooker wasn't just a simple cooking tool. It was an object symbolizing a family's survival and the continuity of daily life, the most practical measure of whether a household was functioning properly. Thus, the act of bringing the rice cooker into a new home first when moving can be seen as a declaration that this household will 'eat well and live well'. 

My approach to reinterpreting shamanism begins not by rigidly enforcing customs, but by engagingly explaining why such sayings emerged.

Through my YouTube channel, I personally run a storytelling format where I unravel various people's stories using this approach to explain shamanism. Similarly, in The Psychology of Luck, rather than telling people to blindly believe in shamanism or luck, I explain through diverse examples why modern people yearn for the luck of the wealthy, how they believe in folk religion, and what methods might bring good fortune. It unpacks why people seek answers about fate at certain moments in life and why they crave reliance on intuition or external messages, using the language of psychology.

Q. Could you elaborate a bit more on the concept of 'shaping destiny' mentioned in the book's final chapter, "Unexpected Ways to Change Your Destiny"?

A. What I meant by "shaping destiny" in the final chapter is not about forcibly altering or defying a predetermined fate, but rather the process of gradually organizing the texture through which destiny operates, through daily choices and attitudes. Many people believe destiny changes through a single, dramatic event or a major turning point. But in reality, destiny changes steadily yet distinctly based on how we start and end each day.

As mentioned in the book, those who shape their destiny first consider what tasks lie ahead and what situations might arise the moment they open their eyes in the morning. This isn't imagination meant to breed anxiety, but preparation to preempt foreseeable risks and mistakes. Simply adopting this mindset of forethought and readiness brings much of what seemed like random misfortune into the realm of manageability. And when the day ends, they critically reflect on the day they've lived.

They don't judge themselves as simply good or bad, but calmly examine where their patience fell short, which choices they regret, and conversely, what they did well. This process isn't about dwelling on the past; it's closer to organizing their thoughts to make tomorrow's choices a little more refined. By shaping their destiny bit by bit each day, these people ultimately learn to manage not just their lives, but their own minds as well. That's why I say that no matter how favorable the destiny given to an unprepared person may be, it's difficult for them to turn it into success. Destiny may be given, but the strength to bear and utilize that destiny only arises in those who have refined themselves day by day. Therefore, what I mean by 'shaping destiny' is not an attempt to control the future, but rather the act of creating space for tomorrow's luck to operate by organizing today's choices.

Q. How can individuals identify their "transition period" (gyo-woon-gi) and make the most of it?

A. Gyo-woon-gi literally means a period when the flow of fortune changes. Whether for better or worse, it can be seen as a turning point where existing fortune ends and new fortune begins. Many people imagine gyo-woon-gi only as positive signs like an improved complexion, the appearance of a benefactor, or the arrival of good opportunities. But in reality, gyo-woon-gi often doesn't arrive so kindly. It would be ideal if humans could accurately foresee the exact moment their fortune shifts, but reality doesn't work that way. Thus, a turning point often manifests as an unexpected event. I liken this to a ship. Just because the time comes to transfer from the small boat we've been riding to a larger one doesn't mean we can always safely disembark and move to the new vessel. More often, the old boat suddenly breaks apart, and it's only after we're floundering in the water that we finally spot the new one. Because of this, a turning point in fortune can feel like misfortune or failure on the surface.

This is a classic manifestation of a transition period. It's a process where existing relationships and environments are cleared away and filled with new energy. Therefore, the most crucial point for effectively utilizing a transition period is recognizing that it doesn't always arrive as a purely positive signal. If separation or collapse in any form comes into your life now, it's necessary to adopt an attitude that sees it as a signal that luck is shifting, rather than interpreting it unconditionally as misfortune. The transition period isn't a time to endure; it's a preparatory phase for moving into a new flow.

Q. Based on your research, how crucial is self-reflection in achieving success? Could you also share examples of effective self-reflection methods?

A. Based on my research and experience, I believe self-reflection is not optional but nearly essential for achieving success. Often, people mistake their diligent efforts for effective self-reflection. However, the attitude or mindset of striving is absolutely not self-reflection. When results don't change despite consistent effort, it's usually not a matter of ability but rather that the direction of reflection is misaligned.

One example that comes to mind is a woman I met recently. She dreamed of becoming an actress but faced financial hardship, forcing her to work part-time at a cafe. She could only attend short acting classes on weekends. She was also a dutiful daughter, giving part of her salary to her parents. At the cafe, she proved capable enough to be offered a manager position, which brought her a strong sense of responsibility and pride. The problem was she refused to let go of all three roles: aspiring actress, cafe manager, and family provider. One day, the cafe owner told her, "People struggle to catch even one rabbit. Why try to catch three at once?" But she believed she could manage it and dismissed his words.

Five years passed like this. She still worked at the same cafe while preparing for acting, and surprisingly, the situation had barely changed. Driven by impatience to land auditions quickly, she began spending money on plastic surgery and external changes rather than acting practice, failing to deeply examine what was truly lacking in her acting. The crucial point here isn't that she's lazy or lacks effort, but that her self-reflection focused solely on 'how hard she was working,' causing her to forget 'what she was working towards.' Instead of focusing on the essence of becoming an actress, her energy was scattered across roles, responsibilities, anxiety, and impatience, continually postponing the core competencies needed for success. Therefore, the effective self-reflection I advocate isn't asking, "Am I working hard enough?" but rather, "Does this choice directly connect to the outcome I desire?" It's not about trying to excel at everything, but the ability to identify the one thing you absolutely must focus on at this stage. That discernment is the reflection that helps success.

Q. What methods can individuals practice to maintain a positive attitude even when facing repeated misfortune?

A. I believe the most crucial attitude during repeated misfortune is not to become overly sensitive. That doesn't mean accepting everything unconditionally positively. Rather than becoming overly immersed in misfortune, I believe it's necessary to step back and calmly examine what aspects of the situation I can realistically adjust. Especially when misfortunes come in succession, allowing oneself the room to breathe to let them pass for a moment is often more helpful than forcing meaning onto them or struggling to solve them.

One concept I've observed through counseling many people is this: when you closely examine the lives of those who feel misfortune never ends, it's often not the situation itself but the person's attitude toward interpreting that situation that becomes consumed by misfortune. They end up perceiving everything that happens as misfortune.

One counseling case comes to mind. A male civil servant claimed no one was as unlucky as him. He passed the civil service exam late, promotions always came late, and he hadn't been in a relationship for a long time, calling himself an "old bachelor." But looking closely at his life, he had wandered aimlessly for a long time after leaving the military, unable to decide on a career path. Even while preparing for the civil service exam, he couldn't focus, and frequent drinking sessions disrupted his studies. Repeated failures amplified his anxiety, leading to insomnia, sleeping pill dependency, and even hospital treatment. He finally passed the exam after immense struggle. Consequently, the single fact of passing late became a constant source of self-doubt. He reacted sensitively to even minor remarks, and those around him came to see him as a 'sensitive person'. Where exactly was the misfortune here?

If one must pinpoint 'misfortune' in this process, it was the initial period of aimless wandering after discharge when he couldn't set a direction. The many outcomes that followed were less about misfortune and more about a trajectory shaped by accumulated choices and attitudes. Yet he lumped this entire process together under the interpretation that "I'm just an unlucky person."

In my counseling practice, I often advise clients that when misfortune strikes, they shouldn't fixate on each instance and over-interpret it. It's far more likely that a single, tiny seed of misfortune—one they didn't even notice—has grown into this blanket of misfortune covering everything.

Q. What strategies would you recommend to overcome the fear of failure?

A. I write screenplays as a hobby. Creating something from nothing is always difficult. But from experience, a perfect piece of writing never emerges from a blank page. You must start writing anything at all to see the next scene, for other ideas to surface, and for the direction to gradually take shape. I've learned that the path, completely invisible before the blank page, only reveals itself once you start writing. Of course, it would be ideal if the perfect direction were clear from the start. The process of writing a first draft might seem like a waste of time on the surface. But without a draft, you can't revise, refine, or get closer to completion.

I believe failure is much the same. Failure isn't the end; it's closer to the first draft on the path to success. Only with that draft can you see what's lacking and where you need to make changes. Through repeated revisions, we finally approach completion. Just as writing a perfect piece in one go is impossible, achieving perfect success with a single choice is rare. That's why I want to suggest, rather than fearing failure, we should view this process as writing the first draft for success.

Q. What do you think is the key factor in creating long-term luck and sustained success?

A. People often say that luck is something you "create for yourself." Even when discussing things like birth charts, predetermined fate, or destiny, the underlying message is that it ultimately "depends on human effort." That's not wrong. But I don't think it's always true. Imagine a huge, solid iron door standing right in front of you. A door you could never open with your bare hands. If you try to force it open by pounding on it with your fists or ramming your body against it, the door won't budge, and you'll only end up hurting your knuckles and exhausting yourself. Yet strangely, sometimes after struggling for a long time and stopping out of exhaustion, the door opens. Only then do people say, "I should have just waited a little longer."

I believe the key to long-term luck and sustained success lies precisely in this ability to read timing. Luck is certainly not unrelated to effort, but not every moment demands relentless pushing. There are definitely times when no matter how hard you try, the door simply won't open. Similarly, no matter how hard you try to run with a 50kg weight attached to your leg, you won't gain any speed. What's needed then isn't reckless sprinting, but the judgment to hold out until the weight is lifted. Luck has clear ebbs and flows. That's why people who succeed long-term don't always move at full throttle. They know when to act and when to wait. When the door is closed, they don't forcefully break it down at a loss; instead, they conserve their strength to seize the moment when the door opens.

Yet many people misunderstand phrases like "luck is something you pioneer" or "luck is something you create yourself" as meaning you should always push forward relentlessly. As if it meant breaking down that iron door with your bare hands or running even while carrying the weight. As a result, they often exhaust themselves before luck even arrives. That's why I believe the key factor in creating long-term luck and sustained success isn't the quantity of effort, but the sense of knowing the timing of that effort. Only those who know how to wait can move the moment the door opens, and that single choice then leads to lasting success.

The Psychology of Luck by Min Ji Yoo is available now from your bookshop of choice.

---

The Psychology of Luck

by Min Ji Yoo

Praised as a book that 'brings you luck the moment you open it', this book contains lessons on how to understand - and use - the psychology of luck.

FIND OUT MORE