Another year draws to a close. Another full circle around the sun, carrying with it a fresh undercurrent of fear and insecurity. What have I really done so far? Have I even tapped one-tenth of my potential, or truly walked the path of my life’s purpose? At this rather old-sounding age of 46, do I even know if I am existing for the right reasons?
And why is it that I write only when I am angry, hopeless, or utterly confused? Perhaps because writing is the one thing that comes naturally to me. The act of finding words, the right words, to make sense of what I feel.
So what did 2025 bring with it?
Loss, first and foremost. Dear friends and good people passed on, leaving behind memories that now live quietly in the hearts of those who loved them. My personal life was strained by the ongoing health concerns at home. Parenting a preteen added its own layer of anxiety, as my son navigated his growing pains and I carried the weight of them alongside him.
Work, on the other hand, delivered unexpected highs. Just when things began to feel like they were finally falling into place, I walked away from it all. Steering a podcast with Aamir Khan, interviewing Boman Irani, Ronnie Screwvala, and Soha Ali Khan—none of this was on my bingo card for the year, yet it happened. And still, alongside the thrill, an almost existential dilemma surfaced. Why am I here? Is this really what I am meant to do? Am I even good at it? How do I balance ambition and family without constantly feeling stretched thin? And most importantly, what do I want to do next?
The answers never arrive easily. They demand time, reflection, and silence. And yet, life doesn’t pause long enough to allow the luxury of retreating for a few days to simply think. Lately, there is an intense pull within me, a need to find my voice again, a need to write what truly resonates with my soul.
With the year drawing to a close, and as I step into 2026, I find myself doing less work, slowing down as things finally begin to settle at home. Has ambition died? Not really. If anything, it feels like it’s lying low, conserving energy. The next big adventure is waiting, even if the future remains stubbornly out of view.
But as a student of life, and with the little spirituality I dabble in, I know two things to be true. The path never reveals itself all at once; it only lights up the very next step, and only after you have the courage to take the first.
And then there is the quiet assurance that when the student is ready, the master appears. 2025 was a formidable teacher for most of us. As I pause to thank this year for its blessings and its lessons, I find myself looking ahead, seeking guidance from every possible source. Guidance that brings me back to my own centre, back to the source, so I can begin again… writing, and sharing my words with the world.
Mizuki Dreams 