It’s that time of the year to reflect how time flew by, how it unfolded and how our experiences taught us lessons. Many of us make it a habit to exclaim why has time passed so quickly, probably because our brains compress routine experiences and time pass more quickly as we get older and form “new” memories.
It’s always good to look back in the year’s rearview mirror and recall the bumps and breakthroughs that shaped us to what we have become.
The year 2025 came and went through small and stead choices that slowly rebuilt how I live, how I see myself, and how I connect with the world around me.
Table of Contents
Moving to Adelaide
Leaving Sydney, the city that welcomed me when I first moved to Australia, felt like stepping into the unknown all over again. Adelaide was quieter, calmer, and familiar only through stories from others. My wife and I arrived with only very few contacts and a mindset that we needed to rebuild from scratch. We settled in a suburb called Hope Valley, a fortuitous alignment with our community’s theme for the year, and it did not take long for me to love the neighbourhood, and the city as a whole.
Though bus schedules can be erratic, the city is a quick trip away through the Obahn. Though my runs have drastically reduced — nothing beats to have a buddy around — hikes on trails and nearby footpaths are often met with a cheerful fellow, whether walking their dogs or on their routine walks, I love the gentle pace of the day.
Starting over is a skill.
Adelaide taught me how to lean into newness with less fear, and reward awaits those who dare. The strangers I came across at Morialta or Anstey Hill hikes were like friends I have met for the first time. The fruit and veggie stall at Rick and Maria’s helped arrest inflation, while the local SA grocer Drakes provides a very accessible stop just like our neighborhood sari-sari stores of Titay’s and Emi’s Store back home in the Philippines.
Although limited in number and variety, Adelaide eats seem to be more cheaper, like a favourite Vietnamese joint at Jarn Leva at Tea Tree Plaza.
A small circle is enough.
Those few contacts we had were godsent. Nino helped us settle, eased our luggage issue, and picked us up at the airport. Kaster viewed the properties on our behalf and got two offers, and single-handedly set things up so we’d have the comforts of our first night at an Adelaide home. Kaster and his kids John and Luvine would bring us to attractions like the Cleland Wildlife Park or their new home at Clare Valley.
Furthermore, our neighbor Ging, and in some occasions, Lourdes, would pick us up to church or tag along Babes for occasional grocery at Costco. Though limited in numbers, our new friends in Adelaide provided a crucial lifeline every new settler in a new place sorely need. Thankfully, Jason and Hazel also moved to Adelaide, and further expanded our circle of friends with familiar faces way back from Hong Kong.
Cities influence your internal rhythm.
Sydney was my fast-paced gateway into Australian life — the place where I learned how to navigate a new country and find my footing. Then, Adelaide feels like the chapter where I finally slow down with purpose.
In Sydney, life felt like a sprint; in Adelaide, it feels like a long, intentional walk where I can breathe deeper, plan better, and live with clarity. Make no mistake, I still miss Sydney, its extensive transport network, outdoor trails and the communities we left behind. But Adelaide added a new dimension of life I did not know I needed.
The faith journey continues
Faith has been the pillar of strength and most grounding part of our Adelaide journey. Forming a new household group for the MFC community wasn’t easy — it required coordinating schedules, sending invites, and getting myself out of comfort zone to meet new people.
But slowly, our group became a family away from our family, just like in previous iterations of our journey in Hong Kong and Sydney. It was filled with a combination of getting to know each other and finding common grounds, and sharing our challenges and hopes while we navigate together in our spiritual journey.
I serve at St John XXIII church, a Catholic community that recently celebrated its 50th year of establishment, was a calling I anticipated to do. Whether as a reader, a sharer representing the migrant community, a cleaner, or helping revive its website, doing service for the church reminded me that faith is expressed not just in believing, but in showing up to do the little things. I always believe that our availability is our best ability.
Faith grows through consistency.
Even though we’re now based in South Australia, and are 30 minutes behind Sydney timezone, we still join the nightly rosary, and sometimes lead or operate the Powerpoint as needed.
Listening to the Daily Gospel from Hallow is the first order of the day. Like the gamification and streak badges Reddit tries to keep its audience engaged, Hallow adds that extra motivation to keep consistency and build habit over time. Following it up with Catholic Daily Reflections helps me understand the message, and readings from the Our Daily Bread podcast is figuratively a bread to live by every day.
Small acts matter.
I am inspired by the service that the men and women in the church — many of whom are in their late 70s and 80s. Some of them are lectors, fortnightly cleaners, ushers who welcome the congregation before each mass, or Powerpoint operators. In the words of Aesop, no act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.
Donating consistently and the joy of giving
One of the first quotes I ever learned was “it’s better to give than to receive“. This year, I committed to donating a small part of my income each month. I didn’t set strict rules — sometimes it went to global charities, sometimes to local initiatives, and sometimes to spontaneous causes I simply felt drawn to.
Some of the causes I supported included water projects that provide food security to villages in Zambia and safe drinking water in Myanmar, vision restoration programs helping people regain their sight in Nepal and Laos, education support for children in underfunded communities and feeding program by the Archdiocesan Nourishment Centre in Davao City.
Generosity becomes natural when it’s scheduled.
By setting aside a small amount monthly, giving stopped being a question, it became a habit. It’s like dollar cost averaging investing strategy where you take away emotion from the investment decision. In making a regular contribution in tithes or a small donation, you take away the question of “why am I giving” or “do I have enough after I make a donation”
Impact isn’t solely measured financially.
You don’t need large amounts; even $20 directed well can change someone’s month. We have been blessed all our lives, so it’s only appropriate to give to those in need, especially those who cannot repay us (see Luke 14:13-14).
I draw inspiration from the story of Ronald Read, a quiet Vermont janitor and gas station attendant, who left $8 million of his own money to a local hospital and library when he died.
Giving to random causes opened my heart.
Obviously with proper due diligence (external citations, Australian charity registration or personal acquaintance), instead of focusing on just one charity type, choosing different causes reminded me that needs exist everywhere — and I can play a small part in addressing them.
Reading (and listening to) more books
Thanks to audiobooks, and partly to their inclusion to the monthly Spotify subscription, I read more in 2025 than in the last few years combined. They became my companions during rare commutes, long walks, and errands at home.
The books covered such a wide range:
• Grit taught me the power of sustained effort
• Man’s Search for Meaning deepened my understanding of human purpose
• A Short History of Nearly Everything fed my curiosity about the world
• Bird by Bird inspired my creative side
• The Art of Gathering changed how I think about hosting and community
• Uncivil Agreement helped me understand political polarisation
• Entrances and Exits offered perspectives on creativity and life behind the character
• Baseball: A History of America’s Game let me appreciate a culture through the sport I closely follow (go @Dbacks!)
Consistency > pressure.
Instead of forcing myself to read traditionally, audiobooks turned learning into something natural and enjoyable. I often find it gratifying to listen to audiobooks while cleaning the house, doing laundry or during my hikes, though the 15 hours Spotify limit is too short.
Books expand personal empathy.
I felt more connected to humanity — its struggles, its hopes, its brilliance. The story of Victor Frankl served as a perspective from the lens of a prisoner under the Nazi regime, and shared the struggles of so many others that brought freedom to us in present time. Michael Richards may be a hipster doofus as we know Kramer’s character is portrayed, but there’s more than just a funny Seinfeld actor upon reading his autobiography.
Reflection builds meaning.
Many books made me pause and rethink how I live: how I approach conflict, how I gather people, how I pursue purpose. Beyond our rational and typical understanding of human behavior, books uncover some of the human psyche and bring clarity to some of our most pressing curiosities. Some have answered random questions that pop up every now and then: what does BABIP mean in baseball? How did humans figure out Earth’s mass?
If there’s one thing I regret not doing much is read the Bible more than I did in 2025. I look forward to doing this in 2026.
Resume investing habits
I am relatively late in the investing game, but it was one of the most empowering parts of 2025. I reviewed my Australian super performance and Hong Kong MPF, compared long-term performance, dabbled into ETFs, and studied how markets behave over time.
I started to invest in the Philippine stock exchange in the past decade, I felt empowered to be a shareholder of the popular Filipino brands, guided by Bo Sanchez’s Truly Rich Club. But the market has underwhelmed against its peers, and PSE is the laggard among the world’s stock exchanges. I also tapped into Hang Seng Stock Exchange and picked a few finance and technology equities, but soon offloaded them when I left Hong Kong.
Now, as I think of retirement planning more than travel planning, exploring Australian and international markets, learn more through educational channels like the Equity Mates podcast and The Swedish Investor on Youtube.
I also started thinking about how I could help younger family members start investing early by gifting them a small starter fund. While I can only wish I did invest when I was younger, these youngsters can learn to appreciate wealth creation early.
Financial clarity reduces anxiety.
Instead of avoiding statements and balances, I started reviewing them more regularly — and the transparency offered me peace of mind and sense of direction. Even though I don’t have much wealth to manage, making time to review them brings me a clearer sense of direction towards the future.
Sharing knowledge is a legacy.
Helping younger family members start to learn financial literacy and execute them early is one of the most meaningful gifts I can give. By the time I have passed on, I hope that they build a stable financial status more than I ever did when I was at their age.
Starting two podcast shows
After years of writing blogs and managing websites and YouTube channels, I finally took the first steps in building a podcast in 2025. Not one but two podcast shows. One is an extension of the about life abroad as a Filipino worker and another on living in Australia.
Some of my favorite episodes include top Australian values we are proud of and soft skills Filipino migrant workers need to thrive in foreign workplaces.
Taking cue from personal experience and sharing using this new medium might offer an idea to the intended audience who might be asking the questions an episode might answer.
Creativity begins with starting, not perfecting.
Producing a podcast episode is like writing a blog post. You find a topic and draft the content. Getting a voice talent and recording it is also similar to publishing a post. There are refinements such as redoing the recording, like revising the blog post drafts. Podcasting also requires storage like the blog needs a website hosting.
The more I drafted episodes, the more ideas followed. And as listener numbers build up, they establish a trend on which topics they prefer to listen. The show starts to establish an identity and personality beyond just the generic name and intro message, episode length and soundtrack it is identified with.
I have established a timeframe to develop the show. Quiet weekends to plan episodes, and publish episodes in advance during lean times of the day, usually on quiet moments before bed. As both shows are scheduled twice a week, I also need to build a rhythm to consistently produce to meet listener expectations.
Working remotely and finding rhythm in solitude
2025 was the year I worked almost entirely remotely. I visited Sydney only once, which meant I spent most of the year away from the familiar buzz of office life — the quick coffee runs, the spontaneous lunches, the casual chats while waiting for the microwave, and the small team rituals that make workdays lighter.
Working alone has its benefits, like not rushing to catch the morning commute to office. But it also has pitfalls, such as the temptation to feel lazy, and blurred line between work and life balance.
I missed the simple rhythms of being physically present with colleagues. The inside jokes. The shared frustrations. The energy of brainstorming in the same room. The feeling of being part of something larger, just by sitting next to each other.
But remote work also shaped me in ways I didn’t expect.
Without the noise and unintended distraction commonly found in a typical office workplace, I learned to build my own structure. I learned how to channel energy on my own instead of leaning on external stimulation. This includes building routines before starting or concluding a working day, readjusting my workbench (height vs location), and integrating pauses in between.
Remote work can make you more self-aware.
Without an external structure, I had to understand my own productivity patterns: when I focus best, when I feel drained, when I need to be involved with colleagues and clients, and what habits keep me balanced.
Connection needs to be intentional.
Office friendships happen naturally; remote friendships require effort — checking in, sending updates, and staying present in team chats. It’s an ongoing challenge, and I crave time to connect in person, but I am getting there.
Solitude can sharpen your discipline.
Working alone taught me responsibility over my time. It pushed me to develop habits — planning days, organising tasks, setting goals — that I wouldn’t have more thought of critically in a physical office.
Final reflection
The year 2025 went by so fast. It taught me how disorienting and beautiful change can be: moving to a new city and learning its rhythms from scratch reminded me what it means to be a newcomer and a beginner again.
Adjusting to working from home tested my discipline and my comfort with solitude, but it also gave me space to understand how I work best. I tried more things for the first time than I have in years, from navigating unfamiliar streets to trying out investment or launching a podcast.
As I wrap up the year and look toward what’s next, I want to hold onto that curiosity and courage that only come from starting over.