Like Sand Through the Hourglass - That was 2025.
Like sand through the hourglass, the opening line from Days of Our Lives, one of my favourite childhood rituals, watching with my Nana every school holidays – that was 2025.
As I head into my last few appointments of the year, I realised if I put a “nic” version of an out-of-office on here, I could be accountable. Accountable to the disconnection. Accountable to being present. Accountable to creating space for myself to dream, to breathe, to soften the edges of what has been a really big year.
Because what you see on the outside is rarely the full story. People can be quietly holding so much, even while they’re still showing up, smiling, achieving, creating. We often do not know what is moving under the surface for others, so may this be a reminder to leave a little more room, a little more gentleness, a little more grace.
Both / and
This year has been one of the hardest for me personally, and also one of the most beautiful. Both are true.
It’s funny how you can be living your “best life” in some aspects, and at the very same time learning to live with a completely new reality in others. You can feel deeply grateful and also deeply stretched. You can love your life and also be rebuilding yourself from the inside out.
There have been so many wonderful moments, people, and experiences that I’m beyond thankful for. And there has also been heartache, letting go, and versions of myself I’ve had to meet that I didn’t see coming. Two things, same time. Both allowed.
What this year taught my nervous system
This year has insisted that I learn some things about myself:
Trust and belief are no longer concepts for me, they’re practices I return to when everything feels wobbly.
The importance of pausing and breathing when things get hard (turns out, I hold my breath when life tightens). Giving myself my breath back helps me remember compassion before the old pattern of “this must all be my fault” tries to take over.
A pause is enough time to choose a new way of being. The mind muscle is getting stronger, laying new pathways. The body has had a front-row seat this year, telling the truth even when my mind wanted to rush past it.
Out of office (for real)
So, this is my version of an out-of-office.
Over the break, I’ll be:
Disconnecting so I can actually feel what this year has been
Being present with my people, my body, my breath
Creating space to dream into what comes next
Reflecting on the moments and humans that made 2025 softer, even when it was hard
If you’re reading this, thank you for being part of this chapter, whether you worked with me, messaged me, liked a post, or quietly cheered from the sidelines. Your nervous system, your story, your presence in this community matters more than you know.
Two things can be true at once: you can be proud of yourself and completely exhausted. You can be ready for what’s next and still need time to land from what you’ve just lived. If that’s you too, you’re not alone.
