Dear Conscious Readers,
The first month of the year is almost over. It seems like the year has just started yesterday, yet it also feels like it’s been a long time.
The days are long, but the years are short.
And that is why I am always astounded when I look back on everything that happened in the past year.
How was 2025 for me, you might ask? It was the year of connection. The idea of word of the year is not to achieve something. It is more like a guiding post for daily life—influencing microdecisions.
Do I call a friend, or do I spend time staring at strangers’ social media posts instead? I called my friend.
Do I continue working alone on a difficult task because I am oh-so-independent and capable, or do I ask a colleague for help or to discuss? I asked a colleague.
Do I lie a little longer in bed with my kids as we talk about what death is, or do I excuse myself to get lost in a book? I stayed in bed and talked the difficult talk.
So yes, there were new connections, there were also deepening of old connections.
It’s not perfect, of course. But it was a daily reminder of the importance of connection throughout the year. And it will continue to run in my life from now.
As for this year, my word of the year is flow. This timeless Tao’s poem was the inspiration:
The supreme goodness is like water.
It benefits all things without contention.
In dwelling, it stays grounded.
In being, it flows to depths.
In expression, it is honest.
In confrontation, it stays gentle.
In governance, it does not control.
In action, it aligns to timing.
It is content with its nature
and therefore cannot be faulted. - via Raymond Tang.
The poem extolls many values beyond what I can embody this year, but I think flow is a good start.
Over the past year, I’ve become aware of the tensions between different parts of my life.
My work in tech pulls me into a world that is fast, future-facing, and deeply energized by AI. It invites curiosity, experiments, and a belief that something new and exciting is emerging.
Yet in my creative writing life, I often find myself surrounded by suspicion of AI. Here, slowness is sacred. Human messiness matters. Attention is something to be protected, not optimized.
Then there is time itself.
My evolving role at work demands more focus, more mental energy, and reaching outward. At the same time, my writing and daily meditations—where I sit with questions of meaning, mortality, and consciousness—ask for more slowness, more presence, and reaching inward.
And threaded through all of this is my family—my children, my partner. They don’t just want the time that remains; they ask for my undivided attention, my whole self.
How much more can one person split themselves? I do not know.
And thus emerges the word flow. If every part of my life means something to me, and they are me. So why should they be competing? Why aren’t they integrating?
Why not let my energy flow through them, back and forth, back and forth? Each feeding into the other rather than stealing and draining in the process?
That is my hope with flow.
If at work, I am pondering how AI is now changing the world, then that is what I will be writing about. If I started thinking about death because my 4-year-old asked me, “Do I have to be flat when I am dead?” after an encounter with a squashed spider, then that is what I will be writing about. If what I read lately made me cry or question the reality we are living in right now, then that is what I will be writing about.
But what would that mean for this newsletter?
Maybe it’s a longing to feel rooted in the present, a desire to rediscover yourself, or a curiosity about what it means to live with intention and forge deeper connections with others and the world. - A journey to conscious living, together.
It will all still be the same. Conscious living means rediscovering oneself, living with intention, and forging a deeper connection. Having found what it means to live consciously and how that is the key to happiness, it will still be the heartbeat of all that I am writing.
But I do think it’s time for a reset, for a change of name. Well, the new year beckons for that, and also, after two years of writing, I feel it is time for it too. And as flow dictates, the name change will come as it comes in time, and when energy permits, so stay tuned.
Until the next letter, I wish you a good start to the year and, for some of you, a good preparation for the coming Chinese New Year!
Consciously yours,
Rachel
This time, instead of my usual thoughts and recommendations, I’m sharing a small roundup of my favourite pieces from the past two years of this newsletter. I’ve always loved reading these yearly roundups from my favourite writers, and I hope you’ll enjoy this one too.
My personal favourites
Finding connection in a divided world
How a little bird taught me to love and let go
The ones that run close to home
Should you ask me where I am from?
The letters that changed my life
Literary explorations
Two of my favourite conscious living practices
Other popular posts
For a brief moment of lightness, I became heavy
If this letter resonates with you and you’d like to continue walking alongside these reflections, I’d love for you to subscribe—or, if you’re able, to upgrade. Your support makes it possible for me to keep writing here, slowly and thoughtfully, and to let this space grow in its own time.
Ohh excited to see the upcoming changes to this space! And Happy Chinese New Year!
Heard it in your voice and it resonated so much. The pull and the push of living through writing.