This is usually where the story turns into a growth playbook.
You double down. Hire more people. Build more systems. Turn momentum into leverage.
That’s how these stories are supposed to go.
This one didn’t.
Rather than asking “How do I grow this?” I found myself sitting with a quieter, more uncomfortable question:
What happens if I don’t?
Not forever. Not dramatically.
Just this year.
So I booked flights. A lot of them.
This is how many boarding passes we got this year. Note: we already threw some away.
Part 1: On paper, 2025 was the year to be sensible
The business was doing well. Better than it ever had. Revenue was strong, predictable, and pointing in one clear direction: up and to the right.
If you've ever had a good month, like really good… you'd know the feeling.
The invisible pressure kicks in immediately.
“Don't waste it.”
“This is your moment.”
“Build the thing. Scale the thing. Lock it in.”
I felt that pressure too. From peers. From the internet. From myself.
But underneath it, there was something else. Not fear. Not burnout.
Resistance.
I couldn't shake the feeling that if I immediately turned this into a growth project, I'd lose something I didn't yet have words for. So instead of expanding outward, I paused.
And then I did something that made very little sense to anyone watching from the outside.
Like walking half-naked through a small Tuscan town.
Part 2: Choosing movement over business growth
I chose movement over momentum.
From a traditional lens, it was a stupid decision.
Why would you travel when things are finally working?
Why waste money?
Why step away when you could compound?
Why now?
Life in 5 suitcases. I’m too old (and too Asian) to use backpacks now 😂
I didn’t frame it as a sabbatical. I didn’t have a grand plan for a reset. I wasn’t trying to “find myself” (I'm too Asian for that 💩).
I just knew I didn’t want my entire identity that year to revolve around protecting growth.
So I said yes to travel. A lot of it.
Japan, from south to north and back again.
First time seeing an insane amount of snow in a Samurai’s garden.
Caught my uncle before his party.
England, for the first time in six years.
Nine countries. Twenty-four cities. Three straight months on the move.
There was no productivity narrative attached. No “working from beaches” angle.
It wasn’t about escaping work.
It was about letting experience lead for once and seeing what followed.
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Travel does this funny thing. It strips your life down to essentials.
Where am I sleeping? What am I eating? Who am I talking to today?
Somewhere between chicken wings in Italy, tapas in Spain, hot springs in Tuscany, and snow falling quietly in Tohoku, the noise in my head started to fade.
Not dramatically. Not all at once.
Just… less urgency.
Me standing in an abandon church in middle of nowhere in Cappadocia, Turkey.
I stood inside abandoned churches in Cappadocia and felt small in a good way.
Swam through cenotes in Cancun and remembered what awe feels like.
Swimming in one the most beautiful cenotes in Tulum, Mexico.
Ate a 7th Street cheeseburger in New York and realized how much joy lives in simple things.
Sitting by the beach with my sister, Siumai (her baby) and my dad in Danang, Vietnam.
I returned to Danang and spent the Lunar New Year with my family. Met my sister’s dog. Played pickleball with my dad.
That last part matters more than it sounds.
Because somewhere along the way, play crept back into my life.
Pickleball started casually. Then consistently. Then seriously.
By December, I’m going pro (it’s what I say to my friends when they ask me why I pay so much haha).
I’m a “pro” in pickleball now 🤣
Never expected to pick up a new hobby.
I didn’t optimze for it. I just kept showing up.
Travel didn’t make me more ambitious.
It made me more present.
Part 4: The real cost of choosing not to scale
This is the part people usually want measured.
By choosing not to scale, I let go of:
Aggressive growth curves
Predictable routines
A neat, impressive narrative
I didn't extract every ounce of leverage from the year. I didn't maximize output.
I chose not to.
Me and Mrs in Cappadocia.
And here's what I gained instead:
I gained energy without urgency. I found my way back to movement. Real movement, in my body. I built community in places I never planned to stay. I let play turn into discipline without forcing it.
But nothing broke when I stepped back.
Revenue didn't disappear. Work didn't collapse. Opportunities didn't dry up.
They just stopped being the center of everything.
The biggest shift wasn't external.
It was internal.
I stopped anchoring my identity to constant forward motion.
And in doing so, I felt more grounded than I had in years.
Part 5: The takeaway
This isn't advice.
I'm not saying you should travel for 8 months. (I mean, if I could, it’ll do it lol)
I'm not saying growth is bad.
I'm definitely not saying this is the right choice for everyone.
Chris in NYC 🇺🇸
What I am saying is this:
Not every season needs to be optimized.
Some seasons are for expansion. Others are for integration. Some are for building. Some are for widening the lens.
We don't talk enough about the cost of always choosing “more.”
More work. More scale. More speed.
Sometimes, the most strategic thing you can do is choose something that doesn't immediately justify itself as growth.
For me, this was a year of movement. Physical, mental, emotional.
And ironically, by not chasing growth, I ended up growing in ways I couldn't have planned.
So if you're standing at a similar crossroads.
When things are working, but something feels off.
Maybe the question isn't: How do I scale this?
Maybe it's: What happens if I let experience lead for a while?
You don't need a full reset.
You don't need a dramatic pivot.
Sometimes, you just need fewer anchors and the courage to move.
Happy New Year.
P.S. If you’re interested, here’s how this year went: