If I could live 2025 again, I would.
It would take an extra year, but it would have been worth it.
2025 has been a good year — one I am glad and proud to nod goodbye to.
REFLECTIONS
More than six months of the year were straight-out horrible — vague depressive states that seemed to last forever, being torn apart emotionally for weeks on end, losing things and gigs and creatures that I had made beloved parts of my life, having my incompetence and imperfection slam me down to the ground again and again, rebuilding ideals with worn-out tools and shaking hands. Projects, commitments, and friendships were deserted, cancelled, ended; I still flinch at the memories. Priorities shifted more often than they should have; principles and convictions were challenged, and they sometimes crumpled. I made “stupid” decisions I believed in, disappointed people I never want to hurt, killed dreams left and right to stay sane.
And yet I would walk through all that again, gladly.
That was the cost of entry for the growth I asked for.
I have never before acted on my own agency as much as I have in the past twelve months. I held myself accountable for the clarity and depth of my thoughts, the defaults and habits I lean on to get through each day, the ways I hold and release emotions. I leaned on others when I could not stand by myself; and when those people stepped away, I learned to crawl back to my feet without shaming myself for the scraped knees or “lost progress.” I have greater appreciation and faith in the path I am on — along with a few more scars earned, the presence of mind to look up and listen to the stars, and a quiet confidence that welcomes both pain and joy. This year, I faced more uncertainty, fear, and undesired situations and feelings than I thought I was prepared for, and came out of them stronger and kinder.
In essence, I became a version of myself I do respect and appreciate more than in years past.
All fancy thoughts aside, this was but a year in the life of a rather average twenty-something shuffling between sober-minded memento mori and the naïve exuberance of youth. Shifting now from the deep reflections to rapid-fire recaps…
MEMORIES
- Dreams that came true: Doing cat leaps against a low concrete wall in a deserted parking lot as night fell. Swimming in the lake as snowflakes drifted down around and on me; also, watching the sunset from the middle of a lake a hour’s hike in from a lonely country road. Visiting local open mics, meeting fellow musicians, and jamming. Being accepted into my first-choice architecture program. Wandering in the backwoods with someone I like. Taking courses in death doula training and foot reflexology. Running barefoot on trails with Rags. Attending Connor Price’s concert in Toronto. Visiting Hong Kong. Wandering along a rocky lakeshore at dusk. Acquiring a handpan. Biking along yet another lake, admiring pretty cottages, fishing, and having ice cream. Cooking with a wok over a gas stove. Dropping out of college (I am weird enough to want this, yes, but the actual dropping-out was also inevitable given what was going on in life then). My previous sifu gifting me with a wooden dummy. Sitting on park benches and sketching.
- Memorable meals: Eating my first meal alone on the floor of my room the day after moving out. A Starbucks matcha frappuccino (with six packets of stevia — oops!) in a Florida airport and discussing Anabaptist beliefs with a new friend. Having a sandwich and beer while perched on a stump overlooking a ravine as the sun set in the woods behind me. A picnic dinner with a dear friend while floating on paddleboards. Thanksgiving dinner with people I did not know but who knew how to cook.
- Cool new experiences: Rock climbing. Flying solo for the first time. Travelling overseas. Taking myself out to concerts. Playing the pipe organ (and falling into deliberate love with it). Playing the drums for a jam session without actually knowing what I was supposed to do. Having people ask me if I could teach them or their children, instead of me looking for students.
- Favorite first meetings: Attending the wedding of an “online friend” I have never met in person. Purchasing a longboard deck from a gentleman, then him changing the decks for me and teaching me how to do my own adjustments to the board before sending me off with an extra set of wheels. Meeting up with a potential drumming teacher, a visit which somehow ended up with us singing Cantonese love songs and riding laps around the neighborhood on his bike.
- Key emotions:
- Favorite: Funkenzwangsvorstellung: n. “the instinctive trance of a campfire in the dark, spending hours roasting and watching as it settles and sinks into the ground like a heap of shipwrecks whose sailors raise their flickering sails trying to signal that the prevailing winds of your life are about to shift, that the edge of the Earth is real and looming just a few years ahead, and that your marshmallow is on fire.”
- Most experienced: Addleworth: adj. “unable to settle the question of whether you are doing okay in life; feeling torn between conflicting value systems and moveable goalposts, which makes you long for someone to come along and score your progress in discrete and measurable units—points, dollars, friends, followers, or a grade point average—which may not clear up where you are going but would at least reassure you that you are one step closer to getting there. (From addled, muddled or unclear + worth.)”
- Favorite new walks: The dirt path around Bond Lake not far from where I live. A paved walkway that goes above and below old metal bridges in the heart of a neighboring city. A cliffside trail with hidden lakes, rugged rock walls, and breathtaking ravines several hours north-west of home. Another shoreline with open water on one side and towering bluffs on the other.
- Favorite new friends:
- NV: They say you would never find someone who understands you completely, which is probably true. But I never thought particular aspects of me would be understood, appreciated, and supported until I met her. It makes me tear up inside to realize how deeply precious having her in my life — especially in the past few months — really is.
- DT: Fellow artist, overthinker, and “randomist.” A joy to discuss work, crafting processes, and other life updates with. We have so much fun laughing together over the smallest of things — the proclivity of the words “oddballs” and “oddities” to raise eyebrows within certain contexts when they might have remained lazily inactive otherwise, for example.
- LM: Each time we see each other, it makes us both so happy. At her age, her mind is slowly succumbing to dementia, but she remembers my name, we laugh about the little, inconsequential things she gets tripped up over, and she plays lovely piano music I sing to. I help her with daily life; she demonstrates wisdom and cheerfulness I strive towards.
- Constants: Dienekes. Index cards. Car problems. Wild ideas. Housecleaning. AP Lang/writing classes. Bubble tea. Over-planned and under-executed weeks set against ambitious months and fully-lived days. Following Christ. Guitar music. Tea. Hikes. Car problems. Finding healing in doing chores. Writing. Car problems. Bugging my sisters and friends for thoughtful conversations. Ginger candies. Snaps. Decluttering/recluttering. Dreaming with open eyes.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Was this year a “success”? I suppose. I sometimes think of unreached goals as failures, but I tend to not consider the passing of time itself as success or failure. It is harder to fathom what is possible in a year than it is to map out a day or week (the time constraints within which I do most of my planning). I have yet to master the breadth and depth of a proper “demand” to make of a year; nor have I crafted an all-encompassing measuring stick by which to determine a grand win/loss statement at year’s end. As such, I accept what 2025 has been, and am thankful for the ways it has shaped me. That is all…
My current idea of 2026 is somewhat vague, for the same reasons. I did, however, make a vision board for the year, just on a whim. This represents my first time dabbling in this trend — I wonder how useful or significant it really is. That remains to be seen.
Leastways, I enjoyed the process and the outcome:
