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Consequently, to the younger generation, traditional shamanistic beliefs often felt outdated, and lacked valid justification, like cumbersome superstitions.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. Recently, works featuring Korean shamanism as a key element have gained global attention, such as K-pop-themed content like K-Pop Demon Hunters. Why do you think people today are becoming interested in traditions like shamanism?

A. I believe this phenomenon stems from a broader shift in perception. The simplest example: there was a time in Korean society when entertainers were called 'gisaeng-like' (courtesan-like) and viewed as having a lowly profession. As recently as twenty years ago, if a child declared they wanted to become an actor, it was common for elders to openly say things like, "You'll ruin the family," or "Get your name removed from the family registry." Even now, stories from veteran actors about overcoming fierce family opposition to pursue acting remain tear-jerking narratives.

But what about today? Korea is overflowing with young people dreaming of becoming actors or entertainers, and Hallyu stars like BTS and BLACKPINK have become figures the entire world admires. Society's very perspective on this profession and talent has completely changed. That's why the stories of veteran actors overcoming family opposition to become actors are tales you can't hear without shedding tears. 

When discussing the expression "the fate of a courtesan," it's difficult to explain it without mentioning the Peach Blossom Star, a symbolic point in a person’s Four Pillars of Destiny/BaZi chart. In the context of the Four Pillars of Destiny (the Chinese astrological system called BaZi, which I write about a little in my book), a specific positioning of the Peach Blossom Star (桃花煞) refers to a fate where one cannot settle with one person but instead shares sexual desire with many. The character '煞' in '桃花煞' means 'to kill' or 'to be fatal'.

Interestingly, when examining the Four Pillars of Destiny of celebrities, the Peach Blossom Star (Dohwa-sal ) is an element that cannot be omitted. This is because a strong Peach Blossom Star is necessary to attract widespread attention and establish the structure of living as everyone's lover. For those who become celebrities or live lives in the public eye, the Peach Blossom Star often acts as a kind of essential condition. However, in the past, this Peach Blossom Star was interpreted entirely differently. It was believed that a strong Peach Blossom Star meant one would marry multiple times or find it difficult to live a stable life. Parents would actually hold shamanistic rituals or offer prayers to have their children's Peach Blossom Star removed. This was because it was considered unlucky if a married daughter was divorced and returned home, or if a woman became a widow.  Thus, a prominent Peach Blossom Star was associated with multiple marriages or an unstable life, and parents would indeed perform shamanistic rituals and offer prayers to remove their children's Dohwa-sal. 

But what about today? YouTube videos titled "How to Enhance Your Peach Blossom Luck" or "Peach Blossom Makeup" garner high view counts, and the word "peach blossom" is trending in names for cosmetics, clothing, and products. Especially among today's younger generation, peach blossom luck is no longer seen as something to avoid, but rather as a symbol of essential charm, a kind of "must-have luck." Ultimately, the shift in interpretation of the peach blossom mark isn't about the energy itself changing, but rather the language and values of the era embracing that energy evolving. It has come to be interpreted as 'being so popular that one can marry multiple times'.

Similarly, modern shamans are no longer seen solely as frightening or witch-like figures. Instead, they are increasingly seen as entities who read the currents of people's lives, pinpoint which energies to embrace and which choices to avoid and help individuals design their lives more wisely. A prime example of this shift is K-Pop Demon Hunters. The protagonists in this work are portrayed as shamans who are also skilled singers and dancers, humorous, and charming. The music they compose themselves transcends mere songs, expanding into a divine ability to create spirit messages. Their shamanic power becomes not a symbol of fear, but the core driving force of the narrative. They are no longer sinister figures, but closer to heroes with a modern sensibility. Therefore, I believe shamans are now and will increasingly be perceived as a kind of entertainer with highly developed intuition and senses. The times have already begun moving in that direction.

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.

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.

The Psychology of Luck by Min Ji Yoo releases on June 9.

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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.

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