Your cumulative wealth in 2026

I do not dwell on what failed. I do not tally losses in a ledger of regret. The exercise is not productive. The question is never what went wrong. The question is what did it reveal? What can I learn from this? What can I do better? What caused it—not as a search for blame, but as a study in mechanics. A problem is a signal. It tells you where the structure is weak. That is valuable data. That is the first entry in your asset base.

This is the view from the end of 2025. It was a year of highs, and of course, downs. It would not be normal otherwise. The downs are not stains on the year. They are textures within it. They are part of the composition. I am grateful for the good things. The beautiful things. Their power is cumulative. They accumulate over years, compound like intelligent interest. They form a foundation. The lessons learnt along the way are my real capital. This is the wealth that cannot be devalued by a market crash. As I journey into 2026, this is my working balance sheet.

What is your non-refundable asset?

My assets are specific. They are people and they are work. Family and friends are the first column. They are the non-negotiable margin of safety. They are the proof of life beyond transaction. My work forms the other columns. Research. Consultancy. I would love to add development to this, in its tangible, ground-shifting form—the kind that moves from report to reality. This is the next conversion to master.

Then, the writing. Blogs, academic papers, technical reports. And books. I am finalising a book on reclaiming power, built from real life experiences. I would love to write more of these. At least one book per year. This is not about output. It is self-actualisation. It is the discipline of distilling the wealth of information I have been privileged to access into an accessible, potent form. A book is a capsule. It is a controlled detonation of insight meant to go off in a reader's mind at a later date.

From consumption to creation: The brain's work

This requires the active use of the asset. Indulgence is not just excess. It is the mind-altering passivity of the screen. It is hours spent imbibing other people's creations while my own capacity to synthesise, to build, to write, lies fallow. This is not relaxation. It is depreciation. To not put this asset to its full use is to sell myself short. It is to deprive the circle that depends on the surplus it can generate. The asset base deepens and expands only through use. 2025 expanded it. 2026 will draw upon it and build it further.

A thinktank, not an echo chamber

My disruptive thinktank, hosted on NITE TANZARN IntellectNest, is another asset needing activation. It must become more visible, more active, more relevant. It must be a continuous destination for like-minded people. But more crucially, it must attract those who are not yet aware, and even the skeptics. A circle that only includes the already-convinced is a seminar, not a thinktank. Disruption requires friction. The goal is to curate that friction into new light.

The specific selfishness of a full cup

All this requires a foundational shift. In 2026, I will be selfish. In the good way. I will put myself first. I will love myself. This is not affirmation. It is strategy. You can only love others if your cup is overflowing. You cannot share from an empty cup. You can only offer others the surplus. Therefore, the primary project of 2026 is to ensure I continuously fill my cup to the point of overflow. The love for my children, my grandchildren, my spouse, depends on this surplus. My capacity to contribute depends on this reserve.

I will prioritise my mental health and wellbeing. This means work on avoiding over-indulgence—in work, in worry, in the digital noise that masquerades as connection. It means guarding the asset base from depletion. The mind that writes the book, that steers the thinktank, is a tool. It requires maintenance. It requires silence. It requires play.

So this is the map. It is drawn from the cumulative wealth of 2025. It points toward a 2026 defined not by vague hope, but by specific, selfish, generative action.

A question for your journey

What is in your asset base? Not your regrets, but your learnt lessons. Not your failures, but your revealed strengths. What are you going to build with that capital in the New Year?

Is your cup being filled, or is it just being rinsed by the noise of others?

What one thing will you stop consuming so you can start creating?