Another Year of Excavation
On entering 2025
Last week, I (re) discovered a ton of sh*t I did in 2024.
Now, in the last couple of years, I’ve tried to make my birthday (June) more of my annual restart.
That said, I’m not immune to the September back-to-school feels nor the secular January new year energy as excuses for blank slates and opportunities to pause, reflect, plan and dream.
I blocked the final two weeks of this calendar year to have space to just be. No calls. No meetings. Nothing “planned” outside of holiday commitments.
I spent the first week of this two week period in and (barely) out of a deep depression*.
According to a prior journal entry, last year was not much different.
I spent the second week moving through the aforementioned depression and spending time with my family and myself.
I also began my annual excavation process. I’ve been reviewing last year’s…
calendar
6-month planner I used until May and then abandoned
weekly reflective notes (I did this at the start of 19 of 52 weeks)
personal journals (including my monthly moon journal)
therapy journal
Google Docs with scraps of stories, ideas and long lost blog post starters
to-do lists, ta-da lists, big picture planning and more…
I feel a bit like a scientific researcher at the moment with tons of notebooks and papers spread all around me.
I don’t quite know my hypothesis or even the experiment I’m working on, but I do know—feel—that this is my work right now.
This is necessary.
It’s all given me some energy after a depleting time. I’m in flow, I’m writing relentlessly, I’m excited about various projects, and I can’t keep up with my brain’s buzzy-ness.
During the course of this process, I found the first scrawl of the writing intention I set for myself at the beginning of 2024: to share my writing more.
Immediately, I began critiquing myself.
You barely kept up with your Substack. You only published one freelance article.
You only… You just… You didn’t…
I stopped.
Bad writing coach, I scolded myself. (Okay, not really, but that’s admittedly funny.)
I reminded myself of (and reframed) all the things I did do towards this intention of sharing my writing more:
I launched my Substack in 2024.
I wrote and published periodically on my Substack throughout 2024.
I read pieces at Open Book Salons & Writer’s Retreats in 2024.
I pitched and wrote my first ever commissioned freelance article in 2024.
I read a poem I wrote. Out loud. In front of strangers. In 2024. (Thanks, Oneika, for reminding me of this one!)
In matters of writing and life: Why do so many of us immediately jump to what’s wrong? What we didn’t do? What’s not working?
Why are we SO quick to identify our shortcomings when we actually have things we can celebrate? (Okay, but maybe don’t actually answer that…)
What would it look like to just NOT do that? What would it feel like?
I spoke with a friend earlier this week, and when she asked how I was, I responded, “I’m actually good…right now.”
This “right now” addendum is technically implied in every statement of being. But at this tender time, it feels almost required that I add it aloud.
Perhaps I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Perhaps I’m giving the obligatory acknowledgment that while things are good for me in this moment, I simultaneously recognize that they can’t really be that good because of all of the suffering and pain that others are experiencing.
Perhaps I’m simply reminding myself of my favorite Buddhist saying: “right now, it’s like this,” which allows me to settle in to the goodness, swim in it for a while, and feel grateful it’s there.
I know my feeling of “goodness” is fleeting, but I don’t say this to be dramatic. I say it because it’s the truth.
And sometimes the truth is worth weeping over.
But sometimes the truth is worth celebrating.
A hope for myself is that I continue to accurately identify the difference.
End Notes:
*A note on depression. Managing mental health is a part of my life. I am in weekly therapy and currently take medication to manage my mental health. If you are struggling with feelings of depression, anxiety or other thoughts, please know that you are not alone. There is nothing “wrong” with you, and there is nothing you need to just “get over” or “power through.” You don’t need to just keep treading by yourself or paddle any harder. You are a beautiful and nuanced human. There are many people and a variety of tools out there to help us navigate these waters. Please reach out to me if you need any support in finding resources.
*A note on this newsletter in 2025. I will be experimenting with adding a new “Friday Feature” to periodically share writing from others on their own excavation journey (aka all human beings). If you’re interested in having your writing shared here, please reach out to me. I’ll share the parameters and info. Looking forward to sharing your stories.
“Right now it’s like this.” Such a good reminder. Thank you for these words and reflections.