For decades, I’ve been clinically addicted to making resolutions for the new year. And while the process and potential is intoxicating to me—I feel my soul lift in the presence of a blank notebook/planner/spreadsheet—the prospect of actually doing the things I write down leaves me cold. If I had a nickel for every time I wrote an “ideal schedule” that started with “wake up at 6am” and then followed that up with not a single day of waking up at 6am, I’d have enough for a drip coffee in New York City (around $5; too expensive).
The older I get, the less I believe in the quasi-religious idea of historical progress, that is, the materialist belief that for all of human history we’ve been marching toward some imaginary perfect destination, and simply by moving through time we somehow get closer to that ideal place. Social media was a mistake, etc.
This year, even though it physically pained me, I didn’t make an ambitious 2024 plan in search of some ideal version of myself. I have a single goal for my work (a very specific writing project), and I picked a single word I want to embody this year. That’s it. Basically, I took a brief glance ahead and spent some more serious effort looking down, to what is directly in front of me, and looking back, to figure out what I learned.
Here are my four lessons from 2023, in no particular order:
Internal growth rarely translates to external achievements.
My dad and I like to joke that doing well at work, or achieving things in the world, is like winning a pie eating contest. And the reward you get for winning, for eating the most pie, is more pie. “Congrats on eating the most pie! Here’s some more pie because you’re so good at eating pie!” Sometimes we need to step back and ask ourselves: do I even like pie? You don’t get a trophy for asking yourself the hard questions.
Your heart needs to be in it.
“What do you really want?” is amongst the most challenging questions in life. But the thing you choose should be worth doing for its own sake, because you genuinely enjoy it, not because of what it will get you some day. It’s not enough for something to seem good, it also needs to be good. Worthwhile pursuits often take decades of hard work and dedication to craft. You don’t have to be the fastest out the gate, you just have to be in the race and give it your all. (I would encourage you to watch the video below to see what I mean. It makes me tear up every time I watch it. All heart.)
Loving relationships are the single most important thing in life.
Here I am beating my little love drum again. Our health is important, but who will care for us when we are sick? Our jobs are important, but who will care for us when we lose them? Our creative interests are important, but who will read our drafts and cheer us on? Love is the answer every time. To love and be loved is the greatest vocation in life.
Being at peace is the ultimate flex.
All of the most fulfilled, most well-adjusted people I know—no matter their age—are at peace in their lives. All of them see the world for what it is, they work hard, they are who they are, they cherish their loved ones, and they don’t concern themselves with the opinions of others beyond their closest friends. While you can fake an image of happiness and success, you can’t fake being at peace. What comes out of a state of peace will always be more compelling and true than what comes from a state of anxiety and neediness. Mad respect to all my peace enjoyers out there.