As the year turns
by Phyllis Wong · Borneo Post OnlineWE take stock of the happenings as the year draws to a close.
I realised that much of it unfolded on the road – whether an intended tour or a work-related travels.
Travel, at this stage of life, is no longer about collecting places or in pursuit of novelty, but in search of perspective.
It is about listening to landscapes, to people and even to oneself.
It began in Jiuzhaigou, the Sichuan Province in China.
Standing before its magnificent waterfalls and valleys, I was reminded that not everything needs an immediate response and that not every problem is as large as it appears when viewed up close.
There was an unsettling stillness, even amidst the sound of water flowing from a height and crowds of visitors.
There was an unexplained stillness – one that does not demand attention.
It just exists, ancient and unhurried.
The journey continued to Japan, which is a country that speaks a different register altogether from China.
If Jiuzhaigou teaches stillness, then I would say Japan teaches restraint: order without rigidity, and beauty without excess.
In the quiet efficiency of its trains and bus services, Japan has a way to remind me and probably, all visitors alike, that progress does not have to be loud.
My eyes were open to the way tradition coexists with modern life.
Care is embedded into the every-day’s life with space for others.
It is a lesson many countries, including our own, can reflect on in that development is not only about speed or scale, but also about consideration.
This year carried me across oceans to Brazil
I patted my back when I reached this vibrant, warm and unapologetically alive city after almost 24 hours flying time.
Yes, I arrived in one piece, no jetlag at all.
I do deserve a pat for doing so well!
The rhythm is different in Brazil, but the humanity is familiar.
Conversations stretch beyond schedules. Smiles and laughter are generous.
At the international conference, it became clear how connected our challenges were, be it in media trust, governance, inequality and the responsibility to tell stories honestly in a fractured world.
Being far from home often sharpens one’s sense of belonging.
In Brazil, I found the same set of debates, frustrations and resilience as those at home.
Some issues, I realised, fit neatly into a suitcase and stay behind.
Others travel with you, refusing to be checked in.
The issues of cost-of-living pressures, questions of fairness, the dignity of work, the need for institutions to be worthy of public trust – distance does not dull these concerns, but it clarifies them.
The year also brought a new responsibility closer to home – being part of the founding of the Malaysian Media Council.
After months of groundwork and conversations, the council took shape, and I was elected to serve.
It is slow, often unseen work, but necessary if journalism is to remain credible in these changing times.
Like many things that matter, it does not announce itself loudly, but asks for patience, integrity, and consistency.
Amidst these weightier reflections, the year also delivered its gentler moments.
Our family welcomed a new addition – an arrival that changed the emotional temperature of everything else.
New life has a way of rearranging priorities without announcement.
Suddenly, the future is no longer an abstract concept debated in columns and conferences; it is something you hold, protect, and silently make promises to.
Joy, I have learned, feels different with time.
It becomes less performative, more grounded. It is less about celebration, more about gratitude.
Looking back, this has been a year of movement – across borders, across conversations, across seasons of personal life.
It has also been a year of reminders: that the world is vast, but intimately connected; that progress must be tempered with empathy; that silence and order can be as instructive as noise and speed.
As the year turns, I will be stepping away briefly to mark that transition – a short pause before returning to this space in the New Year.
There is value, I think, in stopping long enough to take stock, to let experiences settle, and to make room for what comes next.
I will enter the coming year without grand resolutions, but with quiet intentions: to keep observing, to keep connecting, to keep asking difficult questions when they matter, and to keep writing – not just about events, but about what they mean to the people living through them.
And so it goes: into another year, another page, another conversation waiting to begin.
Blessed Christmas and Happy New Year to one and all.