Christmas 2025

It’s Christmas Day — a day I’ve always loved. There’s something almost childlike about it. For a brief moment, not much seems to matter. Who you are, what you’ve achieved, what you own — all of it softens, fades into the background.

What remains is simpler, and somehow heavier.

Christmas has a way of reminding you that family and friendship outweigh any belief system built on imagined achievement. That may sound harsh, but today it feels undeniably true.

For many, this day means returning to where everything began — the family home, the place where early dreams were formed, where love and learning first took shape. A return to familiar walls and familiar voices.

Others find themselves somewhere else entirely. Alone, not out of bitterness or avoidance, but because they are walking toward what comes next. Carrying the lessons of the past without clinging to it. Trying, quietly, to build a future that feels honest — one that brings a simple kind of happiness. Often, that is enough to keep moving forward.

I sit firmly in that second space.

I miss family and friends today, of course. But I also know I’m fortunate to have the resolve to chase dreams that don’t always make sense, and often sit well beyond reach.

So today is Christmas. And once the reflection settles, it’s also just another training day.

Another day to pull an old, tired, sore body from the warmth of my small room — the closest thing I have to home right now — brush off the winter cold, and face what isn’t working. To accept mistakes without drama and begin the slow work of correction.

Am I happy?
In parts.

Life hasn’t felt easy lately, but it is entirely of my choosing. And strangely, every time I get something wrong, I move a fraction closer to understanding it.

I know this journey has no real end. I may never reach the physical heights I imagine. But I also know this: I’m a good student. I listen. I learn. And slowly — mistake by mistake — I improve.

That knowledge is my Christmas gift to myself.
Nothing visible. Nothing impressive.
But perhaps the most meaningful gift I’ve ever given or received.

Merry Christmas, 2025.