My Word for 2025

Personal Essays
Written By Salma Ali

At the end of a year, Arif, the kids and I each pick a word for the new year, one that sets our intention and reminds us of our priority for the coming months. A couple years ago my word was ‘soup’ (here’s why). Last year, right after my diagnosis, it was “keep going”; a dear friend turned the words into a beautiful, colourful work of art that sits on my desk, a constant reminder.

This year I was struggling with my one word; so many came to mind but which one would be my North Star. It came easily for Saanya, her word is ‘action’; her goal is not to make endless lists and plans, but to get going on the things she wants to do. Arif’s word is ‘AHALI’, which means a community without boundaries; it’s the name of his new law firm, and conveniently his initials! For Zayd, it’s simply, ‘happy’; being a startup founder takes its toll.

We arrived back from Portugal on Christmas evening. I brought with me a pretty serious virus and all I could think about on the flight back was sleeping for days in my own bed. But waiting on my doorstep was a package—a book that I have been dying to read, but that isn’t due to come out until April. My nephew works for the publisher, knows how much I adore this author, and sent me an advance reader’s edition—best Christmas present ever!

I started reading it that night, and have devoured it twice. As I read and reread the book, my word for the year became obvious—you could say it was written all over the cover.

The book is about journaling, and the transformative power of writing down your thoughts as a way to deal with life’s unexpected twists and turns. The author has been keeping a journal since she was a teenager, and in her early twenties with a dire leukemia diagnosis, her journal became her lifeline. As she writes, “Journaling through illness gave me a productive way to engage with my new reality. Rather than shutting down or surrendering to hopelessness, I could trace the contours of what I was thinking and feeling and gain a sense of agency over it…It taught me if you’re in conversation with the self, you can be in conversation with the world.”

It's called The Book of Alchemy by my personal hero Suleika Jaouad, who I’ve mentioned many times in this newsletter. (I highly recommend pre-ordering the book, it is filled with so much beauty and wisdom.)

Suleika is inspired by the idea of alchemy—taking something base or worthless and turning it into something precious, like gold. For her it’s about transmuting life’s challenges into something more manageable and less fearful, perhaps even beautiful, through creative means like journaling, or painting, dancing, writing letters, whatever your creative spark may be.

I know how much Suleika’s books and writings have meant to me (and thousands of others)—to be able to nod along to someone’s words and know that what you’re feeling has been felt, what you’re fearing has been feared, what you’re keeping hidden has been said, is deeply healing. Suleika is a true alchemist—turning her pain into communal hope.

That’s what I aspire to do this year—sort through my emotions and experiences and alchemize this challenging chapter into something—I’m not quite sure what yet, but hopefully something meaningful, perhaps even precious, and of benefit to others.

So my word for 2025 is alchemy (thank you Suleika!).

While I’m not a journaler (although I’ve been inspired to start), I do love writing this newsletter, and I feel I’ve found my community here, so writing and sharing with my humanKIND family will definitely be one of my creative outlets. I hope you’ll be here; I hope you’ll share too. Much of my learning has been in conversation with all of you. Perhaps we too can turn something base into something beautiful. 

I’ll start with a realization that came to the fore this past week. One of my dearest friends from high school in Tenafly, NJ came to visit me; we hadn’t stayed in touch, and hadn’t seen each other in 40 years. A couple years ago she bought my 30 Daysbook and joined this newsletter. Last February when I wrote about my cancer diagnosis in “Sharing some personal news” and asked if people would share with me what gets them through hard times, she was one of the first to respond.

She wrote, “What keeps me going in hard times is nothing very original. I try to welcome whatever emotions come my way, and remind myself that it’s so much better to be able to feel all these things than to be numb. I take lots of walks, which I use to process my thoughts, compose letters or poems, greet people I know and don’t know, and observe nature.”

She continued with this story: “When my kids were in middle school, there would be days when it was really hard to get out the door in the morning, and at least one of us would be grumpy. My daughter introduced me to this song and it became a sort of morning anthem for us. I still listen to it when I need a boost.”

She attached the YouTube link to “Good Day” by Nappy Roots. I hadn’t heard it before, it instantly lifted my spirits; I added it to my playlist and now listen to it on my walks. (Take a listen, I dare you not to smile. 😊)

When we met a couple days ago, I asked my friend why she responded to my query; what made her reach out and write such a thoughtful response, especially since we hadn’t been in touch for four decades.

She didn’t hesitate to respond for a minute, “I know exactly why,” she said, “because you gave a specific thing that I could do to help. Everyone is looking for something they can do, and having an assignment makes it so much easier.”

She shared that her experience living in Mali also guided her quick reaction. “In Mali, 99% of life is just showing up. If a baby is born, you show up; if someone is getting married, you show up; if somebody dies, you show up; if it’s a holiday, you show up. You don’t have to be charming, you don’t have to tell a joke, you just have to show up. So when you said, this is my news and this is what I would like, it was clear how to show up.”

I think there’s wisdom here for all of us. When you’re going through a hard time, ask for what you need. Be specific. Perhaps a long-lost friend will respond with a song that will make you smile, and then show up on your doorstep, with whipped honey and pedal-powered soap, to pick up where you left off 40 years ago.

Alchemy, indeed.

With my love and warmest wishes for the new year,

Salma

Salma Ali
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