LAST week, on the threshold of Chinese New Year, I found myself wondering once again how time has managed to move so quickly.
The days seem to gather pace almost without our permission. Meetings roll into milestones, milestones blur into months, and before we quite realise it, another year is ready to be folded carefully into memory.
Life’s momentum can be exhilarating. It gives us purpose, direction and the satisfaction of progress. Yet it can also feel overwhelming, as though we are forever trying to catch up with time itself.
Even in our moments of rest, the mind often continues to race. We tell ourselves that after the next deadline, the next project, the next obligation, we will finally pause and take a break.
But the pause proves elusive, replaced instead by the next horizon demanding our attention. It is little wonder that entire seasons pass before we have fully registered that they were here at all.
Perhaps it is fitting, then, that we have entered the Year of the Fire Horse. The horse is a symbol of energy, movement, optimism and endurance. It evokes vitality and forward drive.
Yet it also carries the image of galloping hooves striking the earth in rhythm, the wind in our faces, the landscape sweeping past faster than we can properly absorb.
If we are not careful, the year ahead may indeed fly by in a blur of activity, accomplishment and constant demand once more.
And yet, this festive season asks something gentler of us. Celebrations are not only about reunion dinners, travel itineraries, festive greetings or the joyful crackle of fireworks.
They grant us permission to step outside the relentless current of productivity. They create space for us to breathe, to look back on the paths we have travelled, the obstacles we have negotiated, and the unexpected turns that have shaped who we are becoming.
In that quieter accounting, we rediscover lessons learnt and strengths gained. We remember the colleagues who stood beside us in difficult moments, the friends who checked in when the days felt heavy, and the families who remained our constant safe harbour regardless of distance or difference.
We begin to notice the many small graces that sustained us even when the pace felt relentless.
As we grow older, reflection takes on another layer. Festive periods often awaken memories of celebrations from our childhood, scenes coloured by a different tempo of life.
We remember homes that seemed larger than they probably were, relatives who appeared ageless and permanent, the thrill of new clothes, the fragrance from kitchens busy since dawn, and the simple, unfiltered excitement of gathering without agenda.
Back then, the year did not rush; it unfolded. Time felt abundant, almost generous. There were no distractions from electronic devices.
Looking back, perhaps it dawns on us how much has changed. Elders who once anchored the celebrations may no longer be with us. Traditions have adapted as families disperse across cities and countries.
Technology continues to reshape how we send greetings to one another. Distance is no longer a barrier, with loved ones joining gatherings via a device from afar.
We ourselves arrive at such gatherings differently as well, carrying new responsibilities, new perspectives, and perhaps new vulnerabilities.
The celebration serves as a moment of togetherness, while gently reminding us of both what endures and what changes.
Reflection therefore brings tenderness. For many, the year past carried moments of parting – something I myself have had to endure.
Seats at tables change. Familiar laughter softens into recollection. Amid the brightness of the festivities, we are invited to cherish those who remain with us, and to honour those who now journey with us in memory.
In doing so, we come to understand reunion as not simply just a physical gathering, but as a continuity of love across time.
Yet memory, I have come to realise, is never solely about what we have lost. It is also a quiet inheritance, an intimate passing down of the patience, resilience, humour and courage we once admired in those who came before us.
These qualities become part of the way we are in the world, carried forward not perfectly, but earnestly.
And so, each new year arrives as both a closing chapter and a gentle bequest, inviting us to consider what values we will choose to hold close and what kind of presence we hope to be for others.
Now that the new year has begun, let it carry not just our aspirations, but also our gratitude.
May we step into the days ahead with intention, fully aware of how swiftly time moves, yet reassured that what truly matters can still be held close, cherished and carried forward.
My warmest wishes to all readers of The Star. May the Year of the Fire Horse bring you good health, renewed purpose, abundant joy and, most of all, prosperous new beginnings.
Prof Datuk Dr Elizabeth Lee is the chief executive officer at Sunway Education Group. A veteran in the field of private higher education, Prof Lee is also an advocate for women in leadership. She has been recognised both locally and internationally for her contributions to the field of education. The views expressed here are the writer’s own.
