Happy New Year.
I hope you've had a chance to rest, reset, and spend time with people you care about. As we roll into 2026, I wanted to write something a little more personal than usual — not a product update, not a roadmap, but a snapshot of where my head (and body) are right now.
Because if I'm feeling it, chances are some of you are too.
Physical tiredness & getting back in the game
I’ll be honest: I feel physically exhausted.
Not the satisfying kind of tired you get after a good training session — the kind where DOMS sets in, and a stretch gives you that little serotonin hit. This feels different. Heavy. Sluggish. Like it takes effort just to get started.
I turned 36 about a month ago, and for the first time in a long while, I’ve had to accept that energy isn’t infinite. Right now I’m folding clothes, pairing socks, lining things up neatly — partly because it needs doing, partly because methodical routines keep things ticking over when motivation is low.
It’s not dramatic. It’s just real.
And that’s OK.
Squash, recovery, and competing properly
I’m still playing squash, and I love it — but something’s changed.
I’m now in a league where I’m finally competing against people at my level, or just slightly better. That’s exactly where you want to be… but it means you can’t show up at 90%.
If I want to win, I need to be on top form. That means recovery matters. Consecutive match days don’t work anymore. Playing two games in a day isn’t clever — it’s counterproductive.
That lesson applies far beyond squash: rest is part of performance, not a failure of it.
Shelves, saws, and knowing when to invest properly
Over Christmas I put up new shelves in the bedroom.
I enjoyed it far more than I expected — measuring, cutting, fixing things carefully. We’ve downsized from a huge bed that dominated the master bedroom into a smaller room with a queen-sized bed, and suddenly the bedroom is just… a bedroom. Calm. Purposeful.
It did get dusty. Very dusty.
I don’t own a chop saw. I’m an electrician — and I’ve now thoroughly stepped on every carpenter’s toes. Things went slightly wonky in places, but overall it works.
And that became an accidental analogy.
At home, it doesn’t justify buying every perfect tool for a one-off job. You do your best with what you’ve got.
In the business? It’s the opposite.
Every time we need a tool — whether it’s infrastructure, software, or AI — we invest properly. Because doing things well compounds. Cutting corners doesn’t.
Baby prep & making space intentionally
A lot of this reshuffling is baby prep.
Making space physically, mentally, emotionally. Letting rooms have single purposes. Letting days breathe a bit more. Accepting that life is about to change — and that’s not something to resist.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about readiness.
Learning from unexpected places
In the evenings, we’ve been watching The Good Doctor on Netflix, and I didn’t expect it to land the way it has.
What stuck with me isn’t the medicine — it’s how the main character navigates people.
He doesn’t challenge others just for the sake of it. He learns who to push, who to leave alone, and when to seek reassurance. Throughout the early seasons, he keeps going back to Dr. Glassman — checking himself, asking permission, making sure he’s not misreading the room.
And yet… he’s clearly the best doctor in the hospital.
That hit home.
2026: asking less for permission
2026 feels like a graduation year.
Not arrogance — just confidence earned through doing the work.
There are still people I trust deeply. People I’ll sanity-check ideas with. But this is our baby now. We don’t need permission to build good things for good people.
If we go slightly off piste at times, we’ll ask for forgiveness — not permission — and we’ll fix things quickly and transparently. We’ll listen to our customers, learn fast, and keep iterating.
That dialogue is everything.
A small invitation
So — Happy New Year.
Thank you for reading, for supporting us, and for being part of this journey. If you’ve ever thought about starting a blog, building something, or just thinking out loud — start.
You can write. You can talk to the AI just like I do. You can explore ideas without knowing exactly where they’ll land yet.
The sooner we’re in conversation with you, the faster we can build things that genuinely matter.
2026 is going to be a huge year.
The question is: what’s the one thing you’re ready to stop asking permission for this year?
