Time is elusive. It seems like nothing is happening for years, but then one day it feels as if everything happened at once. I’ve been listening to conversations about resolutions and goals over the past few weeks. People want to make a difference and measure progress towards goals achieved over a period of months. This time last year, I wanted to make 2024 something meaningful. But the vague futility of the human urge to make every calendar year “important” has become clear. Nothing major happened.
Since then, I have concluded that 2024 was the year of fulfillment. For me, this type of year is best understood by what it is not: a “significant year.” If it’s the latter, you can check off a milestone on your bucket list. A chance encounter with your future partner may change the course of your life. You can also start your dream job or take on a new role as a parent or godfather. Conversely, critical years can be shaped by deep loss or random cruelty that redefines who you are. In comparison, a fulfilling year feels empty, insubstantial, and unmemorable.
Why was 2024 such a fulfilling year? We would love to hear from you. It’s not for a lack of effort to make this past 12 months a memorable one. I had so many goals to work, rest, and accomplish, but the more I tried to accomplish them, the more they seemed unattainable. I was caught in the finger trap of developing China. I have not achieved anything of note in my personal, professional or financial life. Time had other ideas about how I should spend it, but this coupled with the economic crisis led me to work more for less pay and decided I wasn’t going to progress or pass. And we didn’t raise even £200.
I can give a number of reasons as to why this happened – the industry I work in is unhealthy, a friend is busy with major life changes – but these are the reasons why this is not fulfilling. It seems to me that the underlying psychological state of mind is less important than the one that shows. The sensation of treading felt like a necessary adjustment, and I realized that I didn’t need to be constantly moving. The more I lean toward stagnation in 2024, the more I reluctantly accept it. If something happens, it will happen due to some external force. I started experimenting with the idea that I didn’t have to force anything, and it turned out to be a revelation.
Don’t get me wrong, a year well spent doesn’t have to mean wasting your precious time. It turns out that such a year can actually bring unexpected benefits. I learned and grew more slowly than a breakup or monumental debacle would prompt a scary realization that led to personal growth. Every small change in my consciousness was pleasant and subtle. I only got sick once or twice. I didn’t feel tired at all, probably because I wasn’t consuming all my energy. I read books, watched TV, and wrote a lot in my diary. I had space for leisure, personal time, that I had never allowed myself before. At first it seemed like I wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything, but it actually meant spending quality time with family and friends. One long weekend I stayed with my uncle and aunt and their children. We spent a disorganized evening drinking wine, chatting, and flipping through interior design books for inspiration on how to decorate our apartment. We all said, “Why don’t we do more of this?” The obvious answer is that we are usually too busy.
I am finally able to manage my casual life, including a large Sainsbury’s grocery store, assembling flat pack furniture and completing my exercise routine. As a result, I now feel somewhat more organized, mentally stronger, and more able to tackle the year ahead. In those small, boring days, I felt grateful for a warm bed, a meal I made, a good book, and a conversation with a friend, even if I didn’t write in a gratitude journal. My only regret is not spending more time offline. I ended up spending way too much time scrolling through apps, creating a vacuum where content filled the empty space of real life.
The other day, when I explained to my sister about my fulfilling year, she didn’t understand. She’s not as internet savvy as I am (although she just returned from traveling and had a very “full” year). “You don’t always have to accomplish something,” she said. “What you’re saying is just what life is about.” And I think she’s right. Our grandmothers put pressure on us to “level up” and grow hotter, richer, more successful, healed, and happier every year while marching in a straight line toward death. Did you feel it? No, she spent time replanting her garden and was inspired by the occasional opportunity to take a cooking class or buy a new beret. Life happened during what I might have previously called her a “fulfilling” few years.
Perhaps this representation is flawed. Perhaps what looks like “stuffing” is actually the essence of a meaningful life. These periods are a learning experience of simplicity. That means a quiet year spent with the people and causes we care about, rather than focusing narrowly on accomplishments and progress that prove to the world that we are worthy of love. Looking back, 2024 definitely taught me to not be too dependent on the outcome. I will end this year by recuperating in preparation for the busy season that will surely come someday. Now, when a friend asks me how my life is going, I’m happy to say I have nothing to report, instead of saying, “Where do I start?”
