A reminder from whisky

If you didn’t know, I love whisky!

I never thought I’d be someone who said that - and yet, here we are.

Much like coffee, whisky intrigues me as much as I enjoy drinking it. I love the history, the lore, the people, the process. I admire the bottles and labels as much as the whisky itself. A Japanese whisky tasting class remains one of the best afternoons I’ve ever had, and when I travelled to Scotland, visiting distilleries was a big part of that pilgrimage.

So yes, I’m a whisky girlie.

I’m also part of The Whisky Club, a monthly subscription that delivers a bottle (or two) of fantastic, often exclusive whiskies from around the world. One of my favourite parts is the live online tastings with the people who actually made that month’s dram. This month’s session featured Glenmorangie, guided by the inimitable Dr Bill Lumsden (industry icon) and his colleague Gillian Macdonald.

Listening to them tell the story of Glenmorangie, and of this whisky in particular, something landed deeply for me: just how patient, creative, and passionate whisky makers must be.

It’s easy for me to open a bottle and enjoy the liquid within there and then. But Bill and his team think and plan a decade or more ahead, then wait to see if their ideas worked. They can’t design something today and unveil it next week. They must be patient, get all the elements in place, and then trust their knowledge of the spirit, the cask, and the conditions.

Could you wait 8, 10, or 15 years to see if your idea was worth it? While developing a range of other ideas that may or may not come to anything?!

Whisky is a competitive business, so creativity becomes a way for a distillery to stand out. At minimum, they create something 'interesting'. But sometimes, by thinking beyond what’s been done before, they create something miraculous - something truly special.

And alongside that patience and creativity, there’s passion. You can see it in Bill and Gillian’s eyes, hear it in their voices. They live and breathe this work.

Over the last few years, I’ve felt like I’d misplaced my own passion, and moved through life on autopilot. (Recent astrological insights have explained a lot!) But this year already feels different. It feels like a year of rediscovery, whether that’s something entirely new or a spark from long ago that’s ready to glow again.

It’s still early days for 2026, and the Lunar New Year in February is usually when I feel the fresh energy roll in. That’s definitely true this year. There’s something in the air - not quite visible, not quite nameable yet - for me and, I suspect, for many of us.

So I’m taking into that fuzzy future the gentle inspiration I received from Bill, Gillian, and my delicious Glenmorangie of the month:
Be patient.
Be creative.
Be passionate.

These aren’t my official “word of the year” for 2026, but they feel like supportive pillars - practical ways into the more esoteric theme I did choose. They’re an invitation to follow what intrigues me, to tap into my creative side, even if it leads nowhere except pleasure and enjoyment.

While noodling around on Glenmorangie’s website today, a few lines jumped out at me - little taglines that feel like companions to my intentions this year:

• "Crafted from curiosity"
• "Where craft, science and mischief come together to create something truly extraordinary"
• "Will he follow the script? It’s not looking likely" (about their partnership with Harrison Ford).

And this one just delighted me: "helping gentle giants stand tall" - about their support for giraffe conservation!

You never know where inspiration will strike!

Watching Bill and Gillian speak with such devotion to their craft reminded me that passion isn’t something we lose forever - sometimes it just goes quiet until the right spark arrives. 

This year, I’m letting myself be a slow-burn experiment: patient with the process, creative in the exploration, and open to whatever form my passion wants to take next. If whisky has taught me anything, it’s that the most extraordinary things reveal themselves in their own time.

What might unfold for you if you gave yourself that same patience and approached the year with curiosity?