Year 29
I'd love for you to read this while listening to the above track :)
Another year, another orbit around the sun. This blog has become an unintentional ritual. A way to mark time, reflect and wrestle with the inevitable uncertainties that come with another lap through life.
Patience was my word for Year 28. In many ways, I honored it. I learned to let time work its quiet magic—to wait without demanding answers, outcomes, or closure. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t falter. There were times I pushed too hard, trying to force things into place, swimming against the tide. Personal challenges often pulled me out of the present, dragging me back into the past or flinging me forward into a future that didn’t yet exist.
I want to belong
For years, I’ve clung to the narrative that I thrive in solitude. I’ve told myself—and anyone who’d listen—that I’m happiest in books, thoughts, and solo runs. There’s some truth to that, but it’s also been my shield. A way to avoid vulnerability, to sidestep the risk of disappointment, to justify not investing in relationships.
But deep down, I crave connection. I want to build meaningful relationships, to feel like I belong. The truth is, I’ve been scared—scared of being vulnerable, scared of letting people down, scared of losing myself if I let others in. This year, I want to lean into that discomfort. To open up, invest in people, and take the risk of belonging.
I want to pause, every now and then
Building a startup has consumed me. I can’t remember the last time I traveled purely for joy. Work has this way of tethering you, convincing you that the only way forward is through harder, longer hours. I almost canceled my trip to India this November for weddings, thinking I needed to double down on work instead.
But sometimes stepping away is the only way to reset. It’s like in table tennis, when I’d walk to the edge of the court between points to catch my breath and refocus. Travel can be that pause—a way to see the world and my life with fresh eyes. My lease is up in June, and I’m toying with the idea of not signing a new one. Maybe this will be the year I explore and work from wherever I feel most alive.
The parking lot in sight
Every year brings new challenges. Aging parents. Signs of my own aging. The realization that time isn’t infinite. It’s sobering, but there is something strangely comforting this time around. You know that feeling at the end of a long hike, when the parking lot comes into view? You’re tired, but you can see the end, and the thought of rest propels you forward.
That’s where I am now. The struggles aren’t over, but I can see the growth, the progress, the person I’m becoming. Even as new challenges emerge, I’m learning to trust the process and appreciate the journey.
If 28 was about patience, 29 is about thriving. I’m coming out of the clouds, ready to spread my wings and fly. Here’s to a year of growth, connection, exploration, and joy.