Short reflections on the year

There's nothing like the fluorescent lights and lawlessness of an airport gate to encourage self-reflection. It's the end of 2025, I have two hours to wait for my flight to take off, and it seems fitting to write my first and last post of this year.

A quiet year

This year was the quietest and most restful year I've had since 2020. After an exciting but busy 2024, I was ready for something different. I wanted to spend more time in NYC, travel less, and devote more energy to my own hobbies and interests.

In roughly chronological order, here is a sample of some happy occurrences from the year:

1. I hosted a board games series in January and February, and it was a great way to consistently see friends and bring people together.
2. I started knitting again (after learning the basics as a child) and completed six projects this year: three scarves and three baby blankets. Next year I hope to progress from solely rectangular creations!
3. I spent five consecutive months in New York City, which is the longest I've ever remained here since moving over three years ago.
4. I welcomed a new niece and a new brother-in-law into my family!
5. I started a new job in August, and had some time off between jobs to rest and explore NYC with friends.
6. Andrew and I finally returned to Harriman State Park, where we got engaged, for a weekend camping trip in October. Our previous two attempts to return were thwarted by sickness and injury, so the third time was the charm.
7. I was much more consistent with my physical activity this year, and started strength training again after a long hiatus.
8. I took a grand total of eight flights, which felt low after the seventeen I took last year.

Some reflections

I had high aspirations in 2024: I was consumed with wedding planning in the first half of the year, Andrew and I got married in June, and we spent quite a bit of time throughout the year visiting or hosting family and friends.

Although it was often possible to accomplish everything I wanted to do, I wasn't really enjoying myself, and at times I was even dreading what I had previously looked forward to. Upon reflection, I was planning my life with very little slack. There was no spare time to absorb last minute changes, like getting sick, receiving an impromptu invitation, or even just feeling like doing something different.

In 2025, I wanted to try something different and slow down my pace of living. For me, it was as simple as approaching a Saturday without knowing what I would spend the day doing. I also tried to abide by some basic scheduling rules of thumb to help override my instincts, such as "no going away for two consecutive weekends" and "one evening per week must be spent at home".

Underneath my desire to plan lives my desire to control, and my fear that nothing will move unless I push it. It was surprisingly pleasant to discover that the rest of the world still moves, at its own pace, in its own time, even when I decide to sit still. Things do happen on Saturdays, whether I orchestrate them or not!

Approaching a new year

2026 is shaping up to be a year with more activity than 2025, so I'm looking forward to the opportunity to test out my new skills in familiar circumstances and see how things go.

Entering my twenties, I conceived of my path to adulthood as a linear journey: I would progress through a series of milestones until I gained my full capabilities, and then I would competently handle whatever challenges came my way. Now, as I find myself re-learning skills I thought I already had, or maybe just re-taking lessons I haven't yet mastered, I think it's more like a spiral — it moves in a direction, but it contains cycles.

That thought gives me a kind of peace: that the new can be old, the old can be new, and whatever is now is now.

Note: I wrote most of this post on December 29th, so I'm keeping that as the date even though I published it on February 11th.