What makes you feel nostalgic?

I feel nostalgic at the end of the year. I allow myself rest and reflection in the days following Christmas leading into January, and I think about the culmination of events over the past twelve months.

During this year, nostalgia has been at its peak. Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s my youngest son starting school. Important people in my life died this year. I had to turn away from some friends. Other friends turned away from me. My oldest son is 16 and in the throes of an unyielding, yet age appropriate, rebellion against me—specifically me.

When my camera roll leads me to pictures and videos of my youngest toddling around or my oldest with a bowtie on, a sharp pang of nostalgia reverberates through my chest. I’ll never have those versions of these boys again. They’re long gone. Halloween and Christmas were hard without my friend, and seeing pictures from the past with her kids during the holidays has been hard. With grief, the firsts are always hardest.

Maybe nostalgia is a byproduct of depth. Depth requires a pause and reflection that lends to noticing the unique, fleeting quality of each moment. Ichi-go ichi-e, as the Japanese understand it.

The Year of Depth

I set an intention each year with a word. Previous years were Community, Mental Health, Glow Up, Less and Consistency. I declared 2024 the year of depth. In doing so, I outlined that I wanted to live a deeper, more considered life in learning, work, thought, connections, and even cleaning. Tasks within the categories were the following, many of which have relevant blog posts:

• Reread books (5 out of my 55 books this year were rereads)
• Blog (96 posts this year–more than double my second most prolific year)
• Allow boredom
• Use my phone as a tool
• Spend more time in nature
• Block off uninterruptible time for work (1 pm most weekdays!)
• Timed sketches
• Plan my week in advance
• Write letters (one…is better than none!)
• Frequent the same businesses
• Reach out more often (I’ve made huge progress over the last few months, despite my distaste for texting)
• Purge (my basement is coming along in a big way)
• Digital Purge (I rebuilt my website & cut some chafe in the process)
• Cherish what I have

The Rewards of Depth

The greatest reward for leaning in to depth has been a deep trust for my own judgement. In deep thinking, I’m allowing myself time for decisions to stew with knowledge I already possess. I listen to my gut rather than a search engine. I trust the reading I do and have done, my deep learning processes, and know that I’m qualified. I don’t seek advice like I once did: I trust my decision-making skills over those of another and lean on experts when appropriate. I don’t need to be validated. I’m mentally well.

It was during this year that I upped my writing and art practices, and began to grow my art business. I used what I learned last year, my year of consistency, to apply to a concentrated work effort. I paused before accepting new commissions and made sure boundaries and expectations were clear upfront, so I wouldn’t experience elevated levels of stress like I did when I was freelance writing. I created a space for deep work writing and another space for painting. Having these areas carved out, along with appropriate playlists, give me laser focus on the task at hand.

Deep reflection is an opportunity to hone in on our values. It’s hard not to notice how little consideration people give to their actions when they’re frequently distracted by technology. Our culture is suffering from an epidemic of loneliness yet when we hunger for social interaction, many turn to the culprit that deepens those pains: social media. The process keeps us suffering, unable to move toward the lives we yearn to lead. It keeps us prisoner to capitalism and corruption. I daresay depth is the only thing that can save our souls.

Depth lends to perspective. From the coast, the boat is afloat. Underwater, you can see bubbles escaping, clearly the result of a leak, and you have the power to foretell the future, change its trajectory.

Deepening Connection

Deepening connection will be a continued mission of mine. I see loneliness and sadness everwhere. I see it in people’s hopeless seeking as they publicly scroll their phones, desperate for the next dopamine hit. People yearn so deeply to be seen that they publicly post videos of themselves getting dressed, starting from their underwear. They grab at their fat in videos for consolation, for views. They cry on camera in their most vulnerable moments, willing to sacrifice any semblance of privacy they have so they can receive attention misinterpreted as affection.

I’m not for everyone–meaning not everyone will see or accept the light I have to offer. The friends that ghosted me are indicative of this. But I am for everyone, in that I’ll keep showing up where I see fit, because I notice. In little ways–taking a quick side quest to help someone with their runaway pup, or inviting a door-to-door salesperson in the house, and sending him off with a hi-vis vest.

Depth is a Lifestyle

Most people are bobbing away in the shallows, but the right people see me here. They take a big gulp of air, open up their chests, and dive in.