29/12/2025
🌏I like to write my yearly reflections, purely as it helps me to process, to learn, to grow, it also keeps me accountable when I share ✨
This past year was truly testing. 2025 asked me to let go in ways I never expected—people, a sense of control, expectations around my health—and to ride a full‑on rollercoaster of emotions: anxiety and worry, yes, but also love and warmth. My family now feel closer again, and my circle of friends became even more important, if a little smaller.
🙏After much‑needed time and space—and a full circle of reflection—I’ve realised this year taught me to surrender to the chaos and then find a way to flow with the tide.
🔥Burnout has been big for so many this year; I’ve certainly been teetering on the edge at times. Perhaps the right kind of resilience is key: the kind that allows you to soften, stay yourself, and still let the flow continue—gently acknowledging that it sometimes sweeps you off your feet—and there, finding pure compassion for yourself.
😴Rest is essential. The constant noise pushing us to justify our existence through productivity is unrealistic, and I’ve been working on that for years. I’m losing the guilt of saying no, becoming more aware of my energy—who I give it to, what drains it—and building the ability to recharge.
However, rest can often feel unreachable with a small family. This season of life brings varying pressures, sometimes completely overwhelming. Amaya is wonderfully sensitive, yet a fire grows within her daily—one that will carry her through these periods of life. Aditya is fiercely independent, yet on his terms, so affectionate and gentle. Sanjiv is often my anchor—the person I’ve perhaps had to work with most to maintain connection this year, so we don’t lose sight of ourselves amid the chaos. It’s all asked for the biggest, most complex investment—surrender and change—but it has also grown a strength I never knew existed.
👩🌾As I grow older, I think finding the pause might be the whole point—to become the observer, to absorb the birdsong, the sound of waves, the children’s giggles. We’re taught that productivity is the reward, but it’s more meaningful to feel the pause between breaths, the rests between the notes.
♥️ When I feel most fragile, I return—no coincidence—to nature and the reconnection it offers.
❤️ Forgiveness, in view of the bigger picture—for myself and for others—is key.
📅In 2026, I’m no longer asking for easy or quiet—nor for false expectations, or the absence of intrusive thoughts and occasional catastrophising (inevitable with a severe lack of sleep, hormones, and a young family). I’m choosing trust: that I can do this, that I will get through it—remaining in my true softness and the vulnerability I once shied away from or tried to fix. I know I can find small pockets of peace, a lot of compassion, and, above all, patience—held together with a sprinkle of coping mechanisms, in moderation 😉x
