It’s the end of the year — again — and I’ve spent far too long scrolling through LinkedIn feeds, wondering what exactly I’m meant to reflect upon this time.
(And yes, I told myself it was “research”. Mostly, it was an excuse to avoid writing.)
The internet, ever helpful, was full of people asking their children profound questions like:
“What made you feel proud this year?”
“What did you learn about yourself?”
My teenager looked up from her phone, unimpressed:
“Mum, I only remember yesterday’s ice-skating experience.”
Fair enough.
So we tried it ourselves. Not for wisdom. Just to remember.
We scrolled through our photos.
And suddenly — there it was.
Not grand events. Not milestones. Just… moments.
- Our family Costco haul!
- Her Christmas dance!
- My first parkrun — on a freezing Saturday. I ran (well, I walked!). But I finished.
- Wallace Monument from my home office window — photographed regularly. Same view. Different light. Different clouds. Always beautiful. A quiet ritual that reminds me: beauty doesn’t need fanfare. It just needs noticing.
I also remembered Chappel Roan’s concert in August — the kind of night you think will stay etched forever. Until it doesn’t.
It took flicking back through photos — glitter on our coats, the way the crowd swayed under neon lights — to feel it again.
That’s what this year taught me: We don’t live just in the moment.
We live in the memory of it.
And if we wait too long to record it? The magic fades.
So I’ve started taking pictures. Not for Instagram. Just for us. For when the hype has settled, and all we have left is the feeling.
The Work That Moves Me
This year, I was lucky enough to speak at IMechE and IET events — standing in front of brilliant people who care as much about energy systems as I do. My team won the Strathclyde R&KE Impact Awards 2025. I co-authored two journal papers and four conference pieces — which, frankly, means I drank more Tea than water.
My work doesn’t change the world overnight.
But maybe — just maybe — it helps make the world feel a little less cold.
Books That Stayed With Me
I listened to 27 audiobooks this year.
Some were life-changing. Some were… curious choices (How to Legally Rob Credit-Card Companies!). But every one was an act of self-care — quiet time in the car, during walks, while folding laundry, while cooking (yes, really).
I read Pride and Prejudice for the first time. And fell deeply in love with Elizabeth Bennet’s wit and Mr Darcy’s terrible social skills. It felt like meeting old friends after decades apart.
I devoured The Psychology of Money — not because I wanted to get rich, but because it finally explained why money feels so emotional.
And yes — I still haven’t read The Tibetan Book of the Dead.
It’s on my bedside table. Next to the art project I haven’t finished. And the book I started reading in January.
That’s okay.
Because sometimes, the best stories aren’t about finishing.
They’re about returning.
So here’s to 2026:
More walks.
More family nights.
More Costco chaos.
More photos of the Wallace Monument.
More conversations that make you feel seen.
More work that matters.
More books that linger.
And more permission — from myself — to simply be.
Thank you for reading these small, imperfect reflections.
Wishing you a New Year filled with warmth, wonder, and zero guilt about doing absolutely nothing at all.
With fondness,
Priya 🌅📚🧶