Every beginning of the year brings a feeling that’s hard to describe. It’s as if the world falls silent for a moment, and we have the chance to take a deep breath before continuing.
I like to think that the year that begins is like a blank book: 365 pages waiting for the choices we will make.
And the most interesting thing is that nobody writes this book for you. It’s yours.
Over time, I’ve learned that you can’t control everything that will happen in each chapter.
Some days will be days of achievements, others of doubts.
Some plans will work out, others will change completely. But that’s what makes life real and growth possible.
What makes the difference is not what happens, but how we respond to each event. That’s where the new chapter begins to take shape.
For years, I entered each new cycle in a hurry: I wanted to solve, build, achieve.
Today, I see that the beginning of a new year is less about rushing and more about redefining course.
It’s about looking back and acknowledging what has been learned—including mistakes—and looking ahead with the tranquility of someone who knows that the journey is worth more than the destination.
At SEDA, I learned that every beginning is an invitation to reinvention.
Each student who arrives afraid to speak English, but decides to try anyway, reminds me that writing a new chapter requires only this: courage.
Courage to try, to start over, to leave the past where it belongs and believe that the next step can lead to something greater. Perhaps the secret is not planning the perfect year, but living each day with presence and purpose.
Writing one chapter at a time, with attention, with truth, with the awareness that not all need to be brilliant, some just need to be sincere.
So, if there is something I wish for this new year, it is this: that each of us writes our own book with more lightness, more coherence, and more gratitude.
May we know how to close what needs to be closed and make room for the new to enter.
Because, in the end, 365 chapters is enough time to change any story, as long as we truly decide to start writing.
