Looking Back on 2024
A stroll down Substack memory lane.
I never like New Year’s. There’s too much pressure around it, everyone feels kind of stressed, and it’s centered about “time” and the clock striking midnight, when we all know time is just a construct anyway, man.
BUT, as someone who does love to reflect, usually while pressing my hand to a window and looking off into the distance forlornly, I have decided it might be a good idea.
A lot of things happen in a year, and I have probably forgotten most of them, but thankfully we’ve got this trusty Substack to remind us. So, here were some memorable moments I got to write about this year:
In April, I travelled to upstate NY to experience a solar eclipse in totality for the first time. It blew me away, and inspired me to offer up my own Solar Eclipse Resolutions:
I’d like to propose Solar Eclipse Resolutions- they’re more binding and important, because, ~space~, but you have until the next eclipse to make a new one. So, we have until 2044 to make sure we keep our resolutions. Way less pressure! Plus, no more overpriced New Year’s meals - only eclipse shaped foods allowed. So, just Oreo cookies and wheels of cheese. I even had a Totality-Kiss (the new New Year’s Kiss). What more could a girl ask for?
I still stand by this. Down with New Year’s resolutions! I also would still like to uphold my Solar Eclipse resolutions, especially Resolution #1: Remember to be grateful, even when something is being taken away from you. It’s a hard one to practice in the moment, but I still believe that it’s a good practice in being even more appreciative of what you have in your life.
I went to a music festival solo in the UK in August, and it was filled with wonderful encounters with strangers, new friendships, and lots of drum circles.
But it also made me think about how I can learn to sit with my emotions more, and not be afraid to process them. To let myself feel it all. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. Sometimes, letting myself feel everything it terrifying to me, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull myself out of it. But if i was going to make another Solar Eclipse Resolution, it would be to keep trying to feel everything as deeply as possible:
People tell me I’m brave all the time. For traveling alone, for going to festivals solo, for getting through years of surgeries and illness, for getting into strangers cars and homes without any hesitation. But I’m not brave, not really.
To me, being brave is putting yourself out there as vulnerably as possible. Even if it hurts and you don’t get the result you wanted. As least you told the person how you felt. At least you tried. I really want to become this person.
I reflected on some Tiny Joys, staying in New York in February, and finding a new, warm and welcoming community.
I wrote about remembering to have “gratitude over expectation,” and of course, the joy of going to yet another festival— this time, Love Burn in Miami. I wrote about living nomadically in New York:
I think about my fear of commitment with settling in a place, and it’s complicated to understand, even for myself. One part of me doesn’t want to feel stuck in a place again, especially after being forced to stay in New York for so long due to Covid and all my eye surgeries. Once I was free to leave, and able to go as far as Bali, I had never felt so liberated. It’s hard to give that feeling up, even now. I think it brings me reassurance to know I’m not locked into anything and nothing is permanent. That at any moment I can change my reality if something doesn’t feel right. Like I have more power and control in my life this way.
In September I got to interview , an incredible writer, on her relationship with storytelling, ecology and chronic illness. In our interview, she tells me:
Everything I do is ecological. With every breath, with every bite of food, with every medicine and pill, I rebuild my body from otherness. When I use the word ecological, I root back to the original etymology: Greek oikos for household. I am not a noun on an empty page. I do nothing alone. I am a syntactical being, strung together by my metabolism and needs and desires, to thousands of other beings. Together we are all a household, and every choice we make, mundane or explosive, takes place within the networked household of relationships.
In November, I wrote about a recent eye appointment scare, and how it feels to still be holding onto the pain of past health trauma.
I wrote about how it feels to navigate all these many versions of ourselves:
Sometimes, I feel so encouraged by these new versions of myself, by how much my life has drastically changed, and then feel pulled back to my past with a single difficult doctor’s appointment.
And then, I have to remember that I still hold all these versions inside me. None are better or worse, and feeling these emotions doesn’t mean I’m back to where I was. I’m learning how to be all these versions, and have them make sense. I think that may just be part of the process.
I hope everyone has a lovely New Year’s, despite my rant earlier, and that we can all continue exploring more versions of ourselves, without judgement, and see where they take us. That we can all keep feeling it all, and live bravely. Thank you so much for reading this year, and see you in the next one!
Love,
Julia
Happy New Year Julia and may your solar eclipse dreams continue to come true!