Category: Personal Development

Waiting for the World to implode

I don’t think I’ve seen as much pessimism at the start of the year than I have in 2026. We’ve got to the point where we openly speak about how tumultuous things are right now.

The political watershed moment of the week came from Mark Carney, Canadian Prime Minister. Speaking at Davos, he openly talked about the ‘illusion’ of the rules-based international order. He went as far as to say ‘the system’s power comes not from its truth, but from everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true’.

The problem is that the illusion is slipping. It has been for a while now.

On Family and Duty

The subject of duty has been deeply imprinted in my mind this week. It relates to the idea of expectations and roles, passed down by family and society.

I went back to see my parents in London, where I also reconnected with the works of my grandfather, Delwar Hussain Chowdhury. Before his death in 1977, he wrote many poems that my father compiled after his death.

Living life in a protective bubble

When I hear the word bubble these days, it’s often used in a somewhat pejorative sense. In fact, I’m probably the one using it in a critical manner. I often lament people living too much in their own comfortable bubble, or indeed the Brussels infamous ‘EU bubble’.

Yet this week I reflected that there is some value in having a sense of bubble around us. For me specifically, I’ve started imagining the idea of having a protective bubble whenever I am in social situations. This helps me stay grounded and give a sense of safety, wherever I might be.

Well, where did that year go?

I wasn’t planning on doing an end-of-year recap. Mainly because I had lost all sense of time. I barely understand it’s December, let alone that tomorrow is 2026.

Yet when I realised that 2025 was about to end, I was hit with a sense of shock. I could barely recall where 2025 went. And I don’t mean that in a whimsical ‘time flies when you’re having fun’ sort of thing. I mean it in a – I have massive blanks in my memory of what even happened – kind of way.

Choosing a more private life

For the last number of years, my modus operandi has been to increase my visibility. More networking, more connecting and more socialising.

In truth, I’m not sure I was particularly successful at it. I’ve built some good connections along the way, but they have broadly remained at surface level. Whilst it’s nice to have acquaintances, many end up being a case of mutually watching one other’s Instagram stories. I might have a conversation every now and then. It could be after a few months. Sometimes, it’s after a few years.

For some, it is understandable. We live in distant places. Regular physical interaction is not possible. It was my choice, after all to up sticks and move from my country of birth. For others, it’s just simply a case of diverging life paths. We are different people, and so the connection has naturally loosened.
But often, it’s not about distance.

The signs of a renaissance

For the first time in around two years, I’ve had several days in a row where I’ve woken up without a sense of fatigue or dread.

Around two months ago, I remember having a day where I felt pretty good. I could get up, go out and doing things without any real issue. Is this what it is to live again? It was remarkable how easy everything felt.

But that was not a sustained feeling. The day after I was back in an energy dip. It was quite frustrating. Yet it at least reminded me what life is meant to feel like.

An ode to old school methods

For one reason or another, I started learning sanskrit this week.

I use an online language platform called Italki. It’s basically a place where you can find teachers and organise classes online. It’s where I also found my Bengali teacher too.

I took a chance and went with a teacher who was a lot older. His profile said he had taught in Sanskrit for over forty years. It was a slightly chaotic profile, far from the slicker, more polished video presentation you get from others.

I’ve had two classes with this teacher so far. His teaching method goes against most rules around modern western education pedagogy.

The key when you get locked out

We often use the metaphors of ‘keys’ and ‘doors’ in the world of personal development.

But on Monday, it had a far more literal meaning for me.

When taking the bins out, I shut the door behind me. I didn’t realise I didn’t have my key, effectively locking myself out.

It’s the sort of general mishap that we all face at some point in our lives. But it’s not so much about the event itself, but what we tell ourselves about it.

Connecting the fragments back together

Each of us has our own ‘personal narrative’. It reflects how we see ourselves, and so also how we see the world. For example, some people speak with a timidness. They talk about how they’re nothing special. To them, they had a ‘boring’ upbringing.

It’s not a surprise that such people aren’t particularly proud about where they’re from. Nor do they tend to be as confident either.

Compare that to someone who has a much more involved story about how they grew up. Their tales of upbringing can sound like a dazzling adventure.

The big irony is that these two stories could be the exact same person. It’s not really the history that matters, but the story crafted from it.

This is something I’ve understood. I’ve worked hard to shift my personal narrative from one that feels quite tragic to one of growth. Yet the last few weeks have also demonstrated a further layer that I never realised. My personal narrative was missing large segments.

On rekindling the flame of desire

One of the big potential traps in modern day society is to lose that spark.

It’s particularly visible in a city like Brussels. So many people come here with big hopes and expectations. The reality of the clunking system can be pretty soul crushing if we’re not careful.

It’s also very visible. When we look people in the eyes, we can see if there is a spark behind it or not. Once someone has lost their spark, it feels like their soul has been tuned down to power-save mode.

Whilst burnout is often assumed to be about overwork, it can just as well be a loss of hope. That was certainly the case for me. Day by day, I had my desires ever increasingly compromised. By the end, I had little will to leave my bed.