Julian JP Lee

Dear friends,

It’s been a while since I wrote a letter to y’all.

So much has happened since that time last year. It kind of feels like a lifetime ago.

I crossed into 2026 in near-total darkness, awakened from slumber by the thrill of steep anticipation.

Earlier that day (the last day of 2025), I had completed my YearCompass reflection booklet in preparation for the turn of the year.

Led by the excellent questions in the booklet, I had cast my hopes and dreams deep into the future: projected them into the next 365 days with as much freedom and honesty as I could muster.

My singular word for my 2026 was “Blossom”. This was the year to be unwavering, steadfast and faithful to the path of my calling: the path that I had committed to at the close of July 2024 and the path that I had grown to know and love in 2025.

My roots had dug deep and my branches had stretched and spread to soak in the joy and vitality of this work. Now, all that was left was for me to burst into blossom. If I did not turn back now, 2026 would be the year I fully unfurled into my calling, a spiritual advent of Spring.

So, there I was, in our hotel room, alone, in the dark-quiet of the night, unable to sleep for excitement of the new year’s dawn.

Just seated there in the inky-black stillness, breathing and feeling, I felt like a pilgrim journeying from one world to the next.

2025 was gone, its city lights behind me, fading into mist. 2026 had not yet arrived. So onwards I travelled through this passage of time, steadily inching towards the new year, second by second. There was no telling when this tunnel would end.

Then— the turn of the hour. The first second of the new year.

No clamour of bells to signal the new year’s ascension, no ball dropped.

Yet, in the distance, a sound like gunshots— slow, steady, sure, sharp.

The sonic ricochet punctuated the night. Fireworks. All hail the New Year.

And so a new year begins and an old year ends. The wheel of time turns. Round and round it goes, drawing seasons to close and begin. Yet, the wheel’s centre remains unmoving.

Whatever time brings and whatever it removes, some things never change. Plants continue to unfurl, flowers continue to bloom. Lovers always find ways to love. Life goes on, as it always has.