As 2026 approaches, the word resolution reappears like a ritual; familiar, predictable, and often forgotten by February. We write it down, speak it aloud, and hope that a change of calendar will somehow change us. But this moment asks for more honesty. Because the world is not just tired. It is fading. The colors feel muted. Conversations feel rushed. Justice feels conditional. Humanity feels negotiable. And somewhere along the way, resolution was reduced to ambition; when it was always meant to be alignment. Resolution Is the Moment We Stop Running A true resolution doesn’t begin with excitement. It begins with stillness. It is the moment you stop running from responsibility, from discomfort, from truth and finally decide to face what has been unsettled inside you. Philosophically, to resolve is to bring something to rest. Not by ignoring it, but by confronting it fully. In real life, this means choosing clarity over chaos. It means admitting what is no longer working; personall...
A few days ago, I found myself watching my son play with the same set of building blocks he had loved since he was three. The colors were the same, the box was the same, and even the small scratches on the pieces told familiar stories. But something was different; him. At age three, he would stack the blocks with excitement but without much structure. His creations were adorable, spontaneous, and often unstable. Whenever a tower fell apart, he would look confused or disappointed. He didn’t yet understand how to rebuild it or why it collapsed. To him, broken blocks meant the end of the game. But at age five, I saw a different scene. The same blocks were in his hands, yet he was using them with intention. His tiny fingers knew how to align the pieces, how to create a stronger base, and how to plan small “buildings” in his mind before making them real. And when one of his carefully made towers broke, he didn’t panic or quit. Instead, he rebuilt it, not exactly as before, but in a ne...