Life Is Fragile. That’s What Makes It Precious.
Lately, I’ve been struck by how many stories I hear about people — young people — facing life-threatening challenges.
Cancer at 30.
A stroke at 35.
Cardiac arrests.
Rare diseases.
These stories stick with me.
They stop me mid-thought and make me look around.
What if this happens to me? To someone I love?
Life feels stable until it doesn’t.
I’m scared of dying. I’m scared of my loved ones dying. I think we all are. And if you tell me you aren’t afraid of dying, that you’re ready to go, I know deep inside you, you’d wish it otherwise.
We all have someone or something we’d want to hold on to, one more moment we’d want to live for.
It’s been over ten years since my mum died. I thought time would make it easier, but grief doesn’t have an expiration date. It changes you. You don’t “move on.” You move forward, but the weight stays with you.
And every time I hear about someone else going through that kind of loss, my heart breaks all over again.
I’m in my late 30s now, and everything I do feels sharper, more intentional. Every choice feels heavier — not in a bad way, but in a way that makes me ask, “Does this really matter?” If it doesn’t, I try to let it go.
There’s a clarity that comes with understanding how fragile life is. It forces you to prioritise. To focus on what’s real: the people you love, the experiences that bring you joy, the little things that make life beautiful.
But being an overthinker, I can’t help but spiral sometimes. When I hear about people suffering, my mind races. I imagine what they’re going through. I try to feel it with them. It’s exhausting, but it’s also what makes us human: this ability to connect, to care.
And now, during the holiday season, those feelings are louder. The world is full of joy and cheer, but it’s also full of people who are hurting.
For every family celebrating, there’s another one mourning.
For every laugh, a tear.
I believe in something bigger than us — call it the universe, a higher power, or just the invisible thread that connects us all.
That belief keeps me grounded.
It reminds me that even when things feel overwhelming, we’re not alone.
If I could have one wish this holiday season, it would be this: to heal every pain, even the ones I can’t see.
To bring peace to every heart that’s hurting. To offer comfort to every person who feels lost.
I don’t know if words can do that, but if you’re reading this, I hope you feel it.
I hope you know that someone out there is wishing you peace, health, and happiness.
2024, A Year of Lessons
2024 was both hard and beautiful. Some days, it felt like the weight of everything would crush me. Other days, I was overwhelmed by how much love and beauty there is in the world.
This year taught me to hold on tighter to the things that matter and let go of everything else.
It taught me to love more openly, to forgive myself for not having it all figured out, and to keep moving forward even when it’s hard.
We don’t know what’s coming next.
That’s scary, but it’s also freeing.
It means we have a chance to make the next moment better.
To choose love, kindness, and connection.
So here’s my wish for you, whoever you are.
I hope you find peace in your heart. I hope you feel the calm that comes from knowing you’re enough, just as you are.
I hope you find happiness — not the fleeting kind, but the deep, steady kind that sticks around even when life gets messy.
Most of all, I hope you stay healthy.
Because health is everything.
Without it, nothing else works.
If this resonates with you, share it. Someone you know might need to hear it.
A little reminder that life is fragile, but that’s what makes it precious.
Cheers to 2025. Let’s make it a year of love, growth, and courage.
