Holiday Reflections & Quiet Lessons

This week feels quiet in a different way.

It’s still the holiday stretch between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Everywhere I look, people are travelling, celebrating, gathering with friends and extended families. In our case, we’re spending it simply — with relatives, with our small family, at home.

We’re not travelling overseas this time. My husband’s work already takes him across one or two countries regularly, so holidays often mean coming back home to be present with family instead of going away again. And financially, we’re also choosing differently right now.

It’s a strange feeling to sit in that space.

We’re not struggling — we live comfortably. But we’re also not in a place where we can freely choose both saving and travelling. So we choose. For now, we choose saving. For our future. For our kids.

It’s not a bad thing. But it does make you reflect.

I feel like we want more from life — not in a material way, but in a meaningful way. To grow. To create. To produce something that matters. We only live once, and this life feels like an opportunity that shouldn’t be wasted.

Lately, I’ve had time — real time — to observe life. Patterns. People. Behaviour. I feel like I have so much potential inside me, but I’m still learning how to maximise it. I don’t fully know how yet. Maybe I’ll find out one day. Until then, I’ll start here — by sharing. Maybe someone out there will relate. Maybe it’ll help someone feel less alone.

There’s a story from a friend that keeps coming back to me.

She’s incredibly smart and talented. She gave seven years of her life to a company, fully believing in loyalty — something many of us Asians are taught from childhood. Support your boss. Give your best. Stay grateful.

But the reality today is different.

Companies change. People are replaceable. Loyalty isn’t always returned. When a business no longer needs you, you can be pushed out — without warning, without compensation.

In her case, politics were aggressive. Growth was limited. There was no real space for Asians in leadership — no path to become managers or directors. So the choice became painful: stay and shrink, or leave and grieve.

She left.

The cost was heavy. Depression. Heartbreak. Years of recovery. Even after a decade, the wound still lingers. Sometimes, we leave a place physically, but parts of us remain stuck there emotionally.

Now, with rising living costs and financial pressure, she’s forced to step outside her comfort zone again. To try something new — not because she’s ready, but because life demands it.

That’s the lesson that stayed with me.

None of us truly know what the future holds. We all have a mission in this life, but flexibility and adaptability are no longer optional — they’re essential.

Often, it’s our ego or our carelessness, our blindness — that stops us from seeing the bigger picture. Fear of change. Fear of failure. Lack of courage. And slowly, without realising it, we get stuck in the middle.

I look around and realise there are so many people earning the same salary as me. Yet something inside me still whispers, this is not enough. Not in money — but in growth, impact, purpose.

Maybe this is where I need to learn from her story.

To step out of comfort. To act — even without clarity.

Because only through action do we discover the real obstacles. Even if we fail, we gain insight. No action means no movement. No growth. Zero.

At some point, we all have to step forward — even if it’s just a little.

We’ll learn along the way.

And maybe the biggest reminder of all:

Don’t let our ego drown us.