The year 2025 brought a lot of learning for me. A series of losses, followed by months of pain and hollowness, overlapping with wandering across foreign lands, brought about some profound realisations and finally, healing. Somehow, it all fit into a single year.
Being without a job for the most part of the year had stripped away a part of my identity and sense of purpose. Then, the sudden end of a relationship took away one of my biggest sources of support. Along with it, the collapse of another long-held dream hollowed me. Soon after, a startup attempt that completely failed, was another blow. By the mid-year, I had lost a lot. I wanted to disappear somewhere far away.
So, I left.
I got on a flight to Europe with neither an itinerary nor a return ticket. I wasn’t seeking adventure, but distance. The unfamiliarity of new places and people pushed me out of my comfort zone. I wandered through five countries, bumping into strangers and witnessing new cultures and architecture; landscapes unfolding like scenes from a film, while the reel of memories kept replaying in the background.
For months, there was no sense of safety. There was no home. No routine to seek refuge in. Many of the things I was used to fall back on had gone. Structures had dismantled, and a few identities had vanished.
All of this forced me to go deep within.
I spent long stretches of time walking across cities, hiking in nature, and sitting in the parks. Sometimes, I would journal and introspect for hours under a tree. At other times, I would stare at the grass, the leaves, the distant faces, the silhouettes of people holding hands, and the empty spaces in between everything else.
I watched waves upon waves of excruciating emotional pain rise and fall at their will. Anger, regret, and sadness played hide and seek in between moments of joy, awe, and wonder, as I moved through Spain, Germany, Netherlands, England, and Scotland.
Thankfully, I did find refuge in my pursuit of healing.
While I was in Germany, I met a friend who introduced me to Anapana meditation, and that became my anchor. Not just the practice, but the philosophy behind it as well. It opened a window to many learnings and realisations that rushed in once I started digging deeper.
I learned to accommodate the pain. I hiked through the pain. I partied through the pain. And I laughed through the pain. I formed a pact with my pain: you are allowed to come, but not consume me.
I began carefully labelling my emotions instead of fighting them. Observing them instead of drowning in them. Letting my body feel them, while reminding myself that, like waves, they would eventually settle.
Realisations started streaming in as I spent hours learning about Anapana meditation and the teachings of Buddha. I found a few answers in the books on Spirituality and Psychology, and contemplated about the nature of emotions and the mind, the purpose of life, and the nature of the Self.
I journaled most days. Over four months, I spent more than a hundred hours in introspection and contemplation, and many hours in silence and meditation.
Slowly, things began to shift. Nights grew gentler, and the days smiled back a little more.
My mind grew quieter and the waves of turmoil progressively started getting gentler. I was in Scotland now, and it was November. After what felt like a long time, I felt lighter. The ruminations in the park gave way to running sessions. I smiled more, and the silhouettes of the city smiled back at me.
When the waves began receding into the calm ocean of my inner Self, they started leaving behind something. Numerous sea-shells of myriad dimensions and colors, scattered across, waiting to be picked up.
Each seashell was a realisation.
I returned home towards the end of the year. Healed, but still numb.
By mid-December, though I had healed significantly, I was harbouring a bitter feeling that this was the worst year of my life. But then something changed quite suddenly. Like a switch turning on. One day, late at night, out of nowhere, a voice inside me echoed:
“The seashells that you have are priceless life lessons”.
These weren’t merely words, but a realisation.
Soon after, the bitterness gave way to gratitude and the numbness thawed. By the time the year ended, I became calmer, more confident, and more grounded I have ever been. Stronger and wiser than ever before.
What a year and what profound realisations and discoveries.
The year began with hope, and it ended with hope. Everything that happened in between, left me a jar full of colorful seashells that will forever shine inside my heart. Thank you, 2025.
The picture below: one of the countless solo hikes and nature walks with two constant companions: my mat and the book that helped me the most.
