Europe/Budapest
BlogDecember 23, 2025

Crossing into 2026

Lorant
Trademark
Trademark
This past year has been turbulent. I worked a lot — but work itself was never the hard part. For people who haven’t spent long stretches building without visible returns, it might look that way. Or they might think the challenge is ideas. Or distribution. Or social media. Those can be overwhelming at times, but they’re all learnable. The more you do them, the better you get. The real questions tend to live somewhere else. Not “Will I be successful?”
But “Will I be ready when success arrives?”
Not “Will I find my partner?”
But “Will I be ready to receive that connection honestly?”
Not “Will I find my purpose?”
But “Will I meet it without fear when it shows itself?”
Many of us believe that once we reach a certain point — stability, wealth, recognition, security — things will settle. But those states are always temporary. At best, they’re pauses. At worst, they’re distractions from a deeper question: how aligned we feel with ourselves. Fulfillment isn’t something you discover. It’s something you build — slowly, through small acts of alignment. The paradox of life is that you don’t need much to feel fulfilled, yet genuine fulfillment is one of the hardest things to sustain. We often look for it in places where it can’t live: objects, people, environments. When those disappear, fulfillment goes with them. I’ve chased money. I’ve chased connection. I’ve chased status. And what I learned wasn’t that those things are wrong, but that they can’t replace a grounded way of seeing your own life. What was missing wasn’t something external — it was the lens I was using to look at what I already had. You can live with very little and still feel deeply rooted. You can have everything you once wanted and still feel hollow. That difference is shaped by how you condition your mind, how you choose your values, and how you care for your inner space. It’s not something you solve once. It’s something you revisit, maintain, and recalibrate over time. The last few years haven’t been easy for me. If I can call what happened “success,” it didn’t come without cost. There were failures, rejections, and long mental battles. There were moments of exhaustion and doubt, moments where I questioned whether continuing made sense. What became clear to me, though, is that regardless of outcomes — reach, revenue, visibility — this is my path. Once UI isn’t just an idea I’m working on. It’s a reflection of how I think, how I see the world, and the kind of future I want to participate in. It stretches the limits of a single person. And still, I’m here, building it — because it’s the most honest way I know how to stay aligned with myself. To choose myself. To respect myself. When I look back at how far we’ve come, I don’t see metrics first. I see people. People who want to build something real in a noisy world. Something grounded in a made-up one. Something joyful, even when things feel heavy. And I’m grateful that I’m no longer building it alone. Thank you for being part of this journey. I wish you a calm, grounding holiday season — whatever that looks like for you. Until we meet again. Stay curious,
Lorant
Trademark
Trademark
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