For the past eight years, my days were structured by meetings, task trackers, and Slack notifications. In 2025, I quit that job and rediscovered something I had not felt since my twenties: genuine boredom, and with it the occasional moment of wonder that only seems to arise when you are not terminally distracted.

I spent much of the year travelling through eastern France, the Indian Himalayas, western China, and northern Japan. Whilst all these places had their highlights, what stayed with me most were missed flights, hospital visits, bad weather, and long stretches with nothing to do. These were not things I would have chosen, but they turned out to matter the most.

None of this was particularly dramatic but it reminded me what it feels like when your attention is not constantly fractured.

Time and space

Before leaving my job I managed to squeeze in a trip in May to both Hong Kong and Singapore to see old friends and colleagues. Although socially draining, it was a chance to close one chapter before starting the next.

That summer I had planned to hike the HexaTrek across France. A month in, by the end of June, I realised I was not enjoying it very much. After two trips to the hospital with stomach issues, I decided to stop. I had probably been pushing my body harder than it wanted.

In hindsight, this turned out to be a blessing. With my schedule suddenly open, a persistent thought resurfaced that it was time to visit somewhere I had flown over many times but never landed. India, or at least a particular corner of it, Ladakh.

I joined a guided trek through the Markha Valley at high altitude, which became my first experience of the Himalayas. The stark landscape and Tibetan-influenced culture felt entirely new to me. Staying with people who had very little, yet were so warm and generous, was humbling.

While waiting out a weather delay in Leh, I experienced a few days without the internet for the first time in many years. With nothing else to do, I read two books cover to cover. At first it felt uncomfortable and tense, but it ended up being one of the most revealing moments of the year. I had forgotten how long attention can stretch when it is not constantly tugged elsewhere.

From there, I flew to the other side of the Tibetan Plateau to explore the region west of Chengdu. One rainy morning in Sichuan, with plans cancelled, I watched a two-hour documentary about birdwatching. Not because I have any particular interest in birdwatching, but because it was there and I had time. It was brilliant, and I can’t remember the last time I’d done something like that.

In December, a friend’s wedding brought us back to Japan. We returned to our old hometown of Kamakura, spent a week in Tokyo, and then travelled through Tōhoku, a region we had never explored. One early morning in Yamadera, I climbed the snowy steps to Risshaku-ji Temple. The surrounding mountains were shrouded in mist and looked like something lifted from an ethereal Chinese painting.

Our modern world is optimised for speed and instant gratification, often at the expense of depth. Throughout these months, away from constant notifications and artificial urgency, ideas had time to form and connect. This year reminded me of what’s possible when you step off that treadmill.

What’s next

Which brings me back to attention, and to work. It is an interesting and unsettling time to be job hunting in tech. The collective obsession with AI feels both exciting and grotesque in equal measure. Exciting because we are exploring a new frontier with genuine potential. Grotesque because it also resembles a gold rush, where many people are likely to be displaced, and where the long-term consequences remain unclear.

It’s uncomfortable being pulled back into this fray, but we live in unprecedented times, and I try to remain cautiously optimistic. It is easy to be consumed by daily headlines and forget that, at a broader level, progress has generally moved in a positive direction despite bumps in the road.

In 2026 I aim to:

• Find fulfilling work
• Explore more of Europe
• Prioritise time for exercise and meditation
• Write broadly beyond travel again
• Learn more German, painful as language learning remains for me

I am very aware that this year was a privilege, and I am grateful that I was able to do it with the support of my wife (who, unlike me, is an actual birdwatcher and didn’t need a rainy morning to appreciate a two-hour documentary on the subject 🐦). The real challenge is whether I can hold onto what this year taught me. I’m looking forward to finding out. All the best for 2026.