2025, in Quiet Motion

2026 is only two weeks away, and I’ve just realised I never wrote about my goals for 2025. I've never been much of a goal setter. There's never been a dollar amount either income or bank balance that I've sought. I don't have a goal for lifting a certain weight. My way has always been to take advantage when an opportunity presents itself. 

This post is a simple recap of my 2025. Looking back, the year feels strange in that way—like it passed in a blink, yet somehow stretched across a lifetime.

For a long time, I believed I was living inside a pre-written script: work steadily, get married, and never even entertain the thought of having children. A neat, predictable path. Safe. Familiar.

But somewhere along the way, I stepped off that script.

I went back to studying and took up new courses, despite the quiet voice that questioned my age. I left a job I had stayed in for a year and a half. Within a single month, I made the decision to move to a new city. I joined fitness clubs, started running, and slowly—patiently—built healthier routines. I formed meaningful connections, returned to reading whenever time allowed, and took my first solo trip.

I found myself genuinely loving my job, even on days when it made me pause, scratch my head, and figure things out from scratch.

Thanks god for the good people I've met inside work or outside

I also became more intentional with money—learning to plan, invest, and save in places where withdrawals aren’t easy. I chose to keep zero cash on hand, a small boundary to protect myself from unnecessary spending.

Learning more about long-term investment, how to invest without out-of-pocket

and journaling.

Somewhere along the year, blogging became harder. I realised it wasn’t because I had nothing to say, but because I wasn’t fully focused on myself. Writing a recap takes effort—choosing the right words, deciding where to begin, selecting the right photo, wondering if this term fits better than that. And sometimes, the weight of all those choices was enough to make me pause.

My writing has slowed down lately. I hope to write more in 2026. Is that a goal? No argument with anyone who thinks it is but either way, writing regularly is a productive use of time. It leads to learning about yourself, it can help you work through things and solve problems and it's fun. 

Journaling, however, stayed with me. It became a habit—quiet, grounding, and surprisingly easy to maintain. I would write, stick, decorate, and leave behind a few words. Sometimes it was a full reflection; other times, just a random thought or a quote that lingered with me.

Moving to another city began with uncertainty, but it was mostly excitement. The energy there feels different—lighter, faster, more alive. I move more now. I linger less. Slagging turned into motion, and motion slowly turned into clarity.

2025 wasn’t loud. It didn’t ask for attention.

But it changed me—gently, consistently, and for good. My life and how I view things has evolved along these lines. I have no idea where it comes from but I think it corresponds to an idea we talk about a lot here which is knowing yourself, understanding what makes you tick.

I LOVE YOU 2025. IT WAS NICE MEETING YOU.