Ten Life Highlights From 2025
Some cool podcasts, trips around the world, rave experiences, and lots of new friends along the way!
I’m back once again with a yearly highlights piece!
I enjoy doing this kind of writing because it gives me a chance to reflect on the past 365 days—an arbitrary unit of time, perhaps, but still a meaningful stretch in which to look back at the narrative arc of my experience in the world. There’s something deeply satisfying about revisiting a year as a story, with its turns, themes, and moments of surprise. I’ve always loved a good narrative, and what better story to appreciate than the unfolding story of your own life, despite its dizzying messiness and imperfection at times. I’ll be publishing a separate piece on the challenges and shortcomings of the past year—because that reflection matters too, maybe even more—but for now, here are my top 10 (and one bonus) highlights of 2025. This is my way of documenting the experiences that stood out, and of expressing gratitude—to myself, to the people involved, and to whatever larger cosmic force (God, universe, Brahman etc) you believe animates and allows these moments to happen in the first place.
Table of Contents (In Chronological Order):
Senate Confirmation Hearings in D.C (Jan + March)
ARC + Meeting Jordan Peterson (Feb + April)
Getting a 2023 Tesla Model 3 (May)
Big Podcasts with Mark Cuban & Dave Smith (May + June)
Psychedelic Conference + My Own Psychedelic Journey (June + July)
The Weeknd Concert x2 (July)
Trip to The Big Apple (Aug)
Voyage to Singapore + Stay @NetworkSchool (Oct + Nov)
Moving Homes with Family (Nov)
Israel-Palestine Trip (Dec)
Bonus (I needed more room!): Raves with Fred Again.., The Dare & More
1. Washington, D.C Trip (Jan + March)
Early in 2025, I took a couple of trips to Washington, DC for the Senate confirmation hearings of Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Marty Makary, and Jay Bhattacharya, while also attending a number of HHS/MAHA–affiliated events. Over the course of roughly a month in total, spread across two trips, I experienced what felt like a real-world political education—one defined less by online X news and more by proximity, conversation, and lived experience. I met and spoke with more powerful (or soon-to-be powerful) people shaping American health policy than ever before, including Calley Means and Casey Means, and found myself unexpectedly pulled into fascinating meetings, conversations, and late-night gatherings. One explicit goal of these trips was to secure a role within HHS, which I pursued seriously and, at times, came impressively close to achieving. While that ultimately didn’t work out—and proved extremely frustrating for several months—I’m now grateful to have returned fully to independent journalist and podcaster mode. Working inside HHS would have been a powerful, career-defining chapter, and I remain open to it in theory, especially given my interest in helping expand access to psychedelic therapy through the FDA and NIH. For now, though, I feel grounded and content continuing on my current career path (more exciting news on that later).
2. ARC + Meeting Jordan Peterson Again (April)
Last February, I attended the Alliance for Responsible Citizenship (ARC) conference for the second time in London—this year noticeably bigger, bolder, and more expansive than the first. The conference offered a fascinating mix of conversations at the intersection of politics, culture, and economics, and I met a wide range of thoughtful and interesting people along the way. One standout moment was a serendipitous dinner with Eric Weinstein, Matt Johnson, and myself. What does a genius mathematician, a world-renowned psychedelic researcher, and an eccentric Gen Z journalist talk about? Mostly, I watched Eric spin off brilliant, high-level abstractions that were—if I’m being honest—entirely over my little Gen Z head. Even his jokes seemed to operate several dimensions above my cognitive pay grade. That said, he was far funnier and more lighthearted than I’d expected from his podcast persona. On the night of the last day of the conference, I enjoyed attending a fun afterparty DJed by independent journalist James O’Keefe of all people, which left me wanting to hear more of his sets.
I didn’t get a chance to even say hi to Jordan Peterson at ARC itself—after every talk he was literally deluged by people—but that changed a couple of months later when he came to Abbotsford to give a lecture. We had dinner together with Lauren Southern, his wife, and a small group of others, and it was genuinely nice to reconnect. We talked a bit about politics, but more meaningfully about the inner journey I’ve been on through psychotherapy, psychedelics, and other modalities of self-exploration. Jordan is a good man, and his talk that evening was fascinating. Afterward, I watched my friend, therapist, and mentor Carson Kivari go on an unfiltered stream-of-consciousness rant backstage—which I helped set up (he’ll be sharing it on my podcast soon). Prayers to Jordan as his health declined after this period; I hope he’s feeling stronger by the time ARC rolls around again. We need him in the public discourse.
3. Getting a 2023 Tesla Model 3 (May)
This list is intentionally eclectic, and not every highlight is work-related—so this one is a bit more trivial, but still a fun life upgrade. In 2025, I finally upgraded my declining-in-value 2019 Chrysler and bought a 2023 Model 3 from Tesla, a car I’d wanted for years after starting to make money doing work I actually love. Beyond the sleek design and massive touchscreen—which I often use to watch full video podcasts while charging or look up lyrics to sing-along-to while driving on the highway—the most mind-bending feature has been full self-driving. I was genuinely scared the first time I tried it; the idea that a car could steer itself at highway speeds still feels slightly insane. But once you get used to it, especially on the highway (even though it still doesn’t quite know how to exit yet), it’s incredible. It makes long drives dramatically more relaxed and almost meditative, freeing up mental space to listen to music, reflect on life, and think about future goals as I like to do. While full self-driving is still wildly imperfect—particularly on tight, narrow streets in Vancouver—on the highway it feels unmistakably seamless. I’m genuinely excited for where the technology is heading, toward a world where you can drive fully hands-free from start to finish (let’s go Elon!). For now, though, it’s already transformed driving into something far more calm, reflective, and enjoyable than I ever expected.
(Ironically, as I write this my Tesla is being repaired at a local mechanic after my brother hit a pole while driving it causing over $7,000 in damages!)
4. Big podcasts with Mark Cuban & Dave Smith (May + June)
2025 was an interesting year for my podcast. Unlike previous years, I didn’t appear on many major external shows, but managed to bring on some high-profile and intellectually challenging guests onto my own platform—something I’m genuinely proud of. The most headline-grabbing of these was Mark Cuban, with whom I’d developed an almost sitcom-esque (in its absurdity) public and private back-and-forth starting in 2022, after Joe Rogan had us debating over email. After years of sparring—first privately, then publicly on X—Mark finally agreed to come on the show, and we debated for nearly three hours, primarily on DEI and vaccine mandates. For my first formal debate, and against someone of his influence, I’m proud of how it went. The exchange was tense, occasionally heated, and at times unintentionally hilarious—including a moment where, rather than responding to my arguments, Mark questioned my entrepreneurial credibility based on revenue and headcount (“how many employees do you have?” “why isn’t your podcast generating millions of dollars like others?”). Viewers can judge for themselves, but it was a memorable and defining podcast moment for me (and yes, my brother still watches Shark Tank, so I hear Mark’s voice weekly, which never stops being funny).
Part one:
Part two:
Another major episode featured Dave Smith, one of the most influential voices shaping my thinking on foreign policy in recent years (for the morons reading: no this is not an endorsement of every single one of his views or every person he has ever affiliated). Having Dave on sparked more backlash than almost any guest I’ve hosted—lost followers, angry messages, and no shortage of bad-faith interpretations of my intentions. But if you actually watch the discussion, you’ll see a good-faith exchange where I challenged his views and steel-manned opposing arguments. I respect Dave’s ethical compass and his rare willingness to debate almost anyone, anywhere, including on unfriendly terrain. I’ve asked him if he would debate Ben Shapiro, Dave Rubin (I know that would be a joke), Sam Harris, or Sam Harris with one of his foreign policy gurus on his podcast, and Dave has always said yes which is highly commendable.
I did a second podcast with Dave — this time moderating something approaching a “debate” between him and Alex Berenson which turned into a high-school brawl. Alex continues to try and pick retarded fights with Dave on X, calling him a Jew-hater like the slimiest of identitarian leftists, but he can keep ruining his credibility I suppose. Beyond these marquee names, my most intellectually fascinating conversations this year were with Robin Carhart-Harris first and foremost—mapping liberalism vs conservatism, order vs chaos, and neuroscience and psychology in the psychedelic discourse for nearly 4 hours in Peterson-esque fashion (parts one and two)—Loch Kelly on dissecting the tensions and synergies between meditation and psychotherapy—Aubrey Marcus on how to unify beyond Left and Right in the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s assassination—and Geoffrey Miller on dating, attraction, and human relationships. These conversations marked a meaningful evolution in the direction of the podcast—and more of that is to come.
5. Psychedelic Conference + My Own Psychedelic Journey (June + July)
In June, I attended the MAPS Psychedelic Science conference in Denver, easily the most fascinating conference I’ve ever attended. The talks—spanning neuroscience, psychology, philosophy, and the religious implications of psychedelic states—were consistently high-level and deeply thought-provoking. I had the chance to meet and learn from figures I deeply admire, including Dennis McKenna, Robin Carhart-Harris, and my friend Matt Johnson, with whom I got to spend a meaningful amount of time. The density of insight was almost overwhelming—in the best way—and I left feeling intellectually stretched and inspired. I’m very glad I went (even though I suffered a painful Grade 2 ankle sprain while sprinting to the conference on the final day).
About a month later, that external exploration was followed by a more inward one. I tend to return to psychedelic therapy when I feel stuck, wanna gain new insight, or go deeper into an existing challenge. This time (with MDMA as my medicine again), it was very much the latter. I entered with a familiar fixation on healing my attachment patterns and my often obsessive or anxious approach to relationships—but, once again, the experience just refused to go there. Instead, it continually steered me toward cultivating inner calm, peaceful presence, and stability from within, rather than searching for resolution externally through women and outer validation. That tension—between my desire to analyze and repair, and the experience’s insistence on simply being—was difficult, but profoundly instructive. I wanted the trip to resolve some deep-rooted knots in my psyche but it wanted to keep me in a more meditative, peaceful realm in my consciousness. I remain amazed by how these experiences can reveal the quiet, ongoing wars within our own mind. Integration, as always, has been the real work, and an ongoing challenge for this trip—but I’m once again being reminded to return to stillness and presence amid an otherwise busy and chaotic inner and outer world. More on this soon.
(Read about my second-last trip from 2024 here)
6. The Weeknd Concert x2 (July)
I became a true fan of The Weeknd in the summer of 2024, after discovering his early mixtapes House of Balloons and Thursday and being completely floored by their musical depth (that Beach House sample on “The Party & The Afterparty” is insane!) and emotional rawness. I’d never heard music that captured, so vividly, the inner and outer world of someone aching for love, validation, and connection. From there, I fell down the rabbit hole—Echoes of Silence, Kiss Land, and, to my own surprise and regret at having overlooked it before, Beauty Behind the Madness, which I came to love deeply this summer. So when tickets went on sale in February for his July shows, I didn’t hesitate—I splurged and bought tickets for both nights. The concerts themselves were surreal: gargantuan, immersive, and almost overwhelming in the best way. Hearing tens of thousands of people sing in unison, watching Abel move effortlessly between eras, and witnessing him return to early tracks like House of Balloons and Kiss Land made it one of the most powerful live music experiences I’ve ever had. It’s hard to imagine another concert topping it.
What made the experience even more meaningful was an unexpected synchronicity tied to my inner work. Shortly after an MDMA-assisted therapy session—where I struggled with a deep fear of fully relaxing into the present moment and allowing myself to enjoy life—I found myself trying to convince my mom to come to the first show with me because she is a fan of his music as well and rarely does anything fun for herself. She initially resisted, offering practical objections, before eventually admitting something more revealing: that she felt uncomfortable allowing herself to enjoy something so extravagant and joyful. Hearing that felt like a mirror. It was precisely what I’d been grappling with internally. When I finally persuaded her and she joined, we had an incredible time together, and seeing her sing along to songs like Blinding Lights, Save Your Tears, and Die For You was genuinely moving. The second night, I went with my friend Parker, and we had an equally great time—especially when I heard One of the Girls live for the first time, a dark, sensual track that quickly became probably my favourite song of the summer (I’ll be dissecting the taboo subject matter in an upcoming podcast with evolutionary scientist friends). Taken together, those two nights felt more than just musical—they were aesthetic, emotional, and even spiritual experiences, and ones I’ll be carrying with me for a long time.
7. Trip To The Big Apple
In August, I finally made it to New York City, a place I’d quietly dreamed of visiting since the summer of 2016—a period when I was depressed, bored out of my mind, and craving a bigger, more alive experience of life. Back then, I’d spend hours watching videos of New York street life, neighbourhood food spots, pizza joints, and deli sandwiches, imagining myself somewhere more grand and kinetic than where I was. So when I heard about The Free Press’s first under-30 Gen Z party, I jumped on it. My friend Parker and I booked flights in a hurry, stayed at a friend’s place while he was away, and I flew out largely for the event itself. What excited me most was the crowd: politically homeless young people—neither captured by the far left nor the reactionary right. The party was a blast, and it gave me genuine hope that my generation can rediscover fun, curiosity, and social connection without losing its footing.
Beyond the party, the city itself lived up to the fantasy. We did long, aimless walks, ate excellent New York–style pizza (though I feel like I barely scratched the surface of the food scene and will need a longer visit to do it justice), and had one of the most unexpectedly beautiful moments of the trip in Central Park, where we rented electric bikes and rode across the vast stretch of greenery. Seeing so much nature concentrated inside an otherwise bustling concrete jungle was genuinely striking. We capped things off with a night at Nebula, which ended up being one of my favorite nightlife experiences ever—great music, great atmosphere, and a few fun connections with foreigners along the way. For a city I’d once only known through screens, finally being there felt quietly meaningful.
8. Trip to Singapore + Stay @NetworkSchool (Oct + Nov)
I initially went to Network State Conference out of curiosity. I was intrigued by the ideas around thematic communities and new ways of living and working in an increasingly remote, atomized world. While there, I planned to briefly check out the Network School—just a short visit to see if it might be interesting. What was supposed to last a couple of days stretched into nearly two months, largely because of the people. I didn’t intend to stay anywhere near that long, but we ended up finding a way to extend my time, and I’m incredibly glad I did. Living in Forest City, I found myself immersed in a community that was unusually open, intellectually alive, and socially rich. I made several friendships there that I genuinely believe will last a lifetime, alongside many others that were deeply meaningful for the season they existed in.
One friendship that stood out was with my Romanian friend David—being around him felt like a masculinity bootcamp of sorts. He consistently emphasized mission over approval, self-respect over validation, and caring far less about what other people think. He challenged me directly on how much weight I place on external opinion, urging me to value my own perspective, love myself without waiting for validation, and focus on what I’m here to build. There was also no shortage of laughter and lightness, especially with Zizi and Joao, who first introduced themselves by casually explaining a hilariously absurd meme-coin they’d created over breakfast (“Size Matters” - yes really), and later told me about a bizarrely lecherous Portuguese male subculture involving young men, their friends, and local grandmas—which I will leave at that, LOL.
I also enjoyed friendship with this fascinating woman Nay Gozalova, an older friend whose playful, warm energy led more than a few people to assume we were dating (we weren’t), a dynamic that brought back a surprising amount of fun, cringe, quasi-flirtatious nostalgia from high school that I didn’t realize I’d missed. Highlights from my time there also included a weekend trip to Singapore for Parker’s birthday, and hosting an impressive Halloween party with David—complete with flyers handed out at a local college in Johor Bahru, ornate costumes, and genuinely great vibes. Spiritually, the most meaningful experience there was with this relationship therapist Venus—who calls herself “the goddess of love”—who helped me deeply realize how destructive my subconscious mental script of self-deprecation and “feeling not enough” is.
Ironically, the sheer abundance of social connection eventually left me overstimulated and exhausted—my nervous system hit its limit—which made returning home for now feel quite grounding. But for a stretch of time, I’d never felt more connected, more socially fulfilled, or more alive.
9. Moving Homes with Family (Nov)
In many ways that are hard to quantify, this was the most significant shift of the year. After years of delay and emotional resistance from almost all family members, my parents finally separated physically for good and moved into their own places. I’m glad it happened, and in hindsight, I regret not pushing for this transition earlier. For a long time, many of us—including me—were emotionally attached to the house itself, as if letting go of the physical space meant losing something irreplaceable. That turned out to be a complete illusion like many things in life. While the transition hasn’t been without difficult conversations or deep emotional eruptions, the overall family dynamic is now far healthier. Letting go of a home we’d lived in for nearly twenty years—set in a beautiful location with a sprawling backyard—was challenging, but necessary.
On the final day, we took a few quiet minutes to walk through each room, saying goodbye and thanking the house for what it had given us. We shared a brief prayer as siblings, and there were tears—grief, gratitude, and release all mixed together. I thanked my mom especially for the immense emotional, practical, and financial sacrifices she made over two decades, acknowledging both the good memories and the real trauma that also lived there. To my surprise, I ended up genuinely liking my mom’s new home—something I hadn’t even seen until move-in day—and for now I’m staying there as well, with a downstairs room serving as a makeshift podcast studio. The most profound change, though, has been watching my parents begin to breathe again—to see them rediscover independence, identity, and a sense of forward motion after many difficult years. As my siblings and I grow more independent and pursue our own paths it’s become clear that this separation, though long overdue, is opening the door for healing and renewal for everyone involved.
10. Trip To Israel-Palestine (Dec)
This was the most eye-opening travel experience I had all year. I was invited to Israel as part of a Canadian journalistic delegation, and over the course of the trip I moved between vastly different worlds—ancient, modern, sacred, and shattered. In Jerusalem, I visited historic religious sites and walked through layers of history that felt almost overwhelming in their density. Tel Aviv, by contrast, felt young, vibrant, and alive—a modern Mediterranean city with an unmistakable energy during the day and in the nightlife scene! The most emotionally intense moments came from visiting the kibbutzim and the Nova Music Festival site where the October 7 massacre occurred. We walked through homes where entire families had been murdered or abducted by Hamas, and met survivors whose relatives were killed. One moment that has stayed with me was standing in a young girl’s bedroom—her age similar to my sister’s—and noticing a photo of her with friends lying on the floor (she was brutally executed). It was a quietly devastating, deeply poignant experience. At the festival site, we also met a survivor who recounted her harrowing escape from the attack; she’ll be joining my podcast soon.
The trip wasn’t only about witnessing trauma—it was also about listening. We heard from journalists, international relations experts, and government officials, and engaged in long, often difficult conversations. I also chose to do an additional trip to visit the West Bank, including Bethlehem and Tubas, to hear the Palestinian side firsthand. There, people spoke powerfully about the injustice they perceive—from the separation wall cutting through Bethlehem to disputes over land and settlements. I’m still forming my views on this conflict, having heard deeply felt arguments on both sides, and I don’t take that process lightly. Alongside all of this, the trip was also—perhaps surprisingly—one of the most memorable culinary experiences I’ve ever had: extraordinary Middle Eastern, Mediterranean, and Italian food, with often-times seemingly endless fresh appetizers, beautifully prepared fish, meat, and vegetables, and unforgettable desserts. It was a trip full of contradiction—beauty and horror, generosity and grief, certainty and doubt—and it left a lasting mark on how I understand the region. More to come on this as I continue to reflect and analyze the conflict.
Bonus: Raving with Fred Again.., The Dare, Danny Brown, Jamie xx & Lost Frequencies
One bonus highlight I couldn’t leave out was how much live music—especially raves—became part of my life this year, particularly toward the end of it. I went to Fred again..’s show in Vancouver with a special someone whose company I really enjoyed, just days before my Israel trip. Watching Fred play his airy, meditative, yet euphoric tracks—You’re a Star, Jungle, Winnie—felt grounding and expansive at the same time. After the show, my companion and I made some spontaneous new friends (mostly thanks to her), which somehow led to piling into a limousine for a short ride to a tiny underground dance club in Vancouver that isn’t open to the public. Blasting Charli xcx in the limo, talking to strangers, and letting the night unfold without a plan was pure joy—one of those moments that reminds you how alive spontaneity can feel. After returning from Israel, I also attended the epic Xmas Funk the Halls rave with my friend followed by a fun night out at The Roxy. I didn’t know how big of a Canada-wide event that show was but I will be officially adding this to my yearly Xmas festivities list!
Other music moments rounded out the year in memorable ways too. At an outdoor Boiler Room rave, I discovered The Dare, whose explosive, unhinged performance—black tuxedo, sunglasses, and sheer reckless energy—completely stunned me. Hearing tracks like All Night, You Can Never Go Home, and You’re Invited live left a lasting impression, and I later downloaded his album What’s Wrong With New York which was a fun way to enjoy the end of the summer. That same night, seeing Detroit rap veteran Danny Brown debut his song Starburst—with one of the most glitchy, discordant hip-hop samples I’ve ever heard—was equally striking. Other musical highlights of the year included Belgian producer Lost Frequencies at Vancouver’s Harbour centre with my good friends Elly and Neveah, Jamie xx (was fun but too dry and techno-oriented for my liking), and earlier in the year, Tyler, the Creator, whose theatrical, era-spanning performance—from Flower Boy to IGOR to Call Me If You Get Lost—was a spectacle. Taken together, this was the first year I started raving and going deep into live electronic music. I wish I’d started earlier, but better late than never.