7 Life Lessons from 2024
I’m slowly recovering from the holiday busy, having slept a solid 9 hours for three nights straight after a grueling series of commitments that didn’t end until just a few days ago. And so I took a step back from my reflection post of 2024 as an act of self-care, deferring it until I had the mental capacity to actually take the time to reflect on and process the past year.
In some ways, this delay is a reflection of how I’ve addressed the stressors of this past year: I’ve created the margin to accommodate big things, and have intentionally made space to manage the stress levels so that I can stay on a more even keel.
Last year was about settling into new rhythms, but this year was about managing intensity by leveraging the existing systems that I had put into place previously. And it was an intense year, some of which I had some lead time to prepare for, and others that surprised me and ate into the emotional slack I’d built into my schedule.
With that, here’s the lessons I learned this past year.
#1 Take the time to sit in grief
As with many years, 2024 was a mixture of joy and tragedy, stressors and laughter. And this past year, the grief came a little closer with the loss of one of my cats. We’re in a majority culture that wants to rush past grief, to live in a place of continual sunshine and rainbows, which made it all the more countercultural to give myself not only the permission to grieve, but to sit in that grief and feel it in its entirety.
The same goes with macro trends in the world; as global citizens, we should grieve the injustices in the world. This grief can ignite a passion for change and draw focus to the ways that we can, in ways both large and small, impact the world for good. This year has been full of news cycles that share tragedy around the world, and we should allow ourselves to feel the enormity of the brokenness of our world.
#2 Be present during times of crisis
I had a couple of unexpected crises hit this past year, and my mantra during this time was: stay present. As someone who likes to plan ahead, I had to force myself to slow down and deal with what was in front of me instead of spiraling to address all of the other options. As a result, I was able to take care of myself even in the midst of an emergency, and ensured that I was able to be emotionally present as well for those along for the ride.
This focus on being present helped me to respond instead of react to the situation in front of me. I could take the time to think and frame what the next step was, how I would speak, and how I would act to move things forward. I was able to reassure myself that setbacks weren’t personal, which in turn helped me leverage my rational brain more. It wasn’t perfect, but I definitely felt like this area of growth helped me feel less emotionally battered afterward.
#3 Prepare ahead of time for the things you know are coming
The second half of last year was predictably intense. In early May, I got a clear indication at work that the second half was going to be a little more busy than usual due to a colleague’s parental leave. I was more than happy to step up (new babies are awesome!), but I also knew that I had to plan ahead, set expectations, and focus on the things that matter.
Rest and boundaries were two areas that I paid special attention to, as well as planning ahead. I timeboxed my work, resisting the temptation to just get more done by adding more hours to the day. I tried to ensure enough sleep, exercise, nutrition, and social connection. I protected my vacation time and tried to meal prep, clean, and set myself up for busy weeks ahead of time.
Planning ahead for the big things gave me the bandwidth to survive the heavier than usual season, including for the holiday season. When I had a moment to breathe in October, I purchased Christmas gifts and got set up for Christmas cards. This little investment in a pocket of peace gave me the ability to execute on my holiday plans with a minimum of stress.
#4 Be okay with a little mess
That being said, my preparation only got me so far. I certainly fell behind on some of my commitments, including to my own house. Sometimes, I had to let go of my getting things done in order just to prioritize my sleep schedule. I’m still working on digging myself out of disorganization and am hoping to set myself up for success next year.
I also went to Germany for a wedding this year, and I planned it in a different way than I normally would. I ensured I had a place to stay, then booked my flights in two separate sessions a few months later. I’m normally someone who plans, prioritizes, and then executes, so this was a bit haphazard for me. At the same time, I was able to take advantage of a happy accident and see some longtime friends in London on the same trip.
Ultimately, I had to be okay with what happened. I wasn’t upset and didn’t judge myself about what is organized and what isn’t in my house. The things that were important were done, and everything else was left for a time when I had a little more brain capacity. I made an intentional choice, and that helped me be more okay with the state of my world.
#5 Ask the question, wait for the response
One of the new patterns I’ve added to my life, especially about big decisions, is actually a reflection of my pattern with online shopping carts. In order to cut down on mindless consumption, anything that isn’t a regular staple in my household (like groceries) generally sits in the shopping cart for at least a month before I decide to purchase it. For large purchases, that is extended to at least six months.
This year, I made a couple of life decisions by asking the question and then waiting for a response on it. Should I close a regular connection group? (Answer for this one was no — I ended up with new sign ups within a week.) Should I adopt kittens from the litter my friend discovered in her back yard? (Answer for this one was yes, after a few days of contemplation— they’re now asleep on my desk.)
I had to sit with the decision for a little while on both of them to confirm it, but this ask-wait-listen pattern helped me make sure that I was actually comfortable with a decision before I committed.
#6 Everyone is on a journey
In a world that is increasingly polarized, I became increasingly convinced that I needed to think about the world differently. One of the ways that I’ve been counterbalancing the temptation to judge is to ensure that I think about others charitably, even when I think they’re flat out wrong. Thinking through a charitable lens doesn’t mean that I have to agree with them or that I even need to force myself to be around them; it means that I choose to find a narrative about someone that views them in a generous light.
The phrase that I’ve been increasingly leaning on is the one: “Everyone is on a journey.” I know that I’ve unpacked and reevaluated a lot in the past twenty years, and have subsequently changed for the better for that work. By viewing my own path through life with this same charitable light, I can hold grace for the past me to be flawed, and can humbly recognize that I, too, am flawed. This means, then, that I must also hold space for others to be on their own growth path.
At the same time, I need to be aware of potential dangers and draw boundaries where they’re needed in order to maintain my own emotional safety. Wisdom must temper hope. I can’t be wildly idealistic about others’ growth path with disregard for my own safety or the safety of others. I can choose how to respond, including leaving.
I’m only one person among many in a world full of vitriol and spite. But the only person’s attitude and behavior I control is my own, and I’m hoping this lens helps me to treat others with the same grace I hope others extend to me.
#7 Show up
I’ve been reminded multiple times this year that relationships are formed when you continue to show up, day in and day out. You have to make the time to live out your values. For me, this looks like scheduling the time to hang out with family, friends, and host events. It looks like holding space for natural rhythms of connection with people around me.
But it also looks like showing up for people in times of crisis. I have to make the time to show up when things are rough, for the sake of the friendship and my own integrity. Whether this looks like bringing a meal or sending a consistent message of connection, I know that making the extra effort to show up for the people around me consistently pays dividends for all of us — for each other and for the community at large we’re building around ourselves.
I’m writing this blog post in a planned space right after the holidays, and I know that 2025 has already proven itself to be both a flurry of activity and a maelstrom of crisis. Something tells me that I’m going to have to be even more intentional to slow down so that I have the margin to handle the weeks and months to come.
At the same time, I know that there is joy to be found this year; there are already glimmers of hope, connections that have reignited, people (and animals) along for the journey. In retrospect, even the hardest of years has been full of quiet moments of joy, laughter, connection, and healing.
Here’s to a 2025 full of connection and joy.
- 2023 — settling into new rhythms
- 2022 — being intentional
- 2021 — noticing
- 2020 — paradox of blessing and suffering
- 2019 — people over process
- 2018 — reaping the rewards of investments made
- 2017 — growing pains
- 2016 — transformation
- 2015 — pivot
Elaine is a principal product manager at Adobe. You can find her on Threads and BlueSky as elainecchao. All statements in this essay are her own and do not reflect the opinions of her employer.
Photo credits
