This year passed in a strange way. 2025 feels like it just started, yet it’s already slipping toward its end. But at the same time it has been the longest year of my life. As if each day stretched itself, opened wider, and asked me to look again.
This year I stumbled—almost accidentally into spirituality, philosophy, and a new way of understanding physics, chemistry, mathematics. Concepts I only treated as school subjects suddenly felt like energy, like sensations, like small explosions of “Oh… so that’s what it meant.”
What I read, heard, and realized often contradicted each other, yet somehow complemented each other. I doubted everything, and trusted everything, all at the same time.
Clarity, confusion, breakthrough, more confusion, then clarity again a looping pattern, but every loop a little higher, a little sharper.
I changed a lot this year: from extremely particular to gradually letting things be; from strict discipline to the freedom of seeing through the rules; from seeking a single answer to accepting that everything is an answer; from arguing to letting go; from searching outward to settling quietly inward.
I used to pass time. This year, time carried me. Even on days when I “did nothing,” my dreams dragged me into classrooms and made me learn things anyway.
I didn’t finish a single book, yet felt deeply moved by every chapter I touched. I didn’t understand the universe, but I was humbled by it every day.
I’m just a tiny cell, a sesame seed, a speck yet I got to witness something so huge, so luminous, so infinite.
Maybe because I am small, the universe could feel this big.
And the truth I learned this year is this: Every point is a doorway. Every moment leads somewhere boundless. Being alive is wonderful.