It’s Friday evening, and the holiday is just beginning. I’m relaxing in the quiet of my apartment after the work day, a good nap, and although I could delve into some things I am hungry to work on, I know I have two weeks for that. I want to take a moment to reflect. This will likely take me a few days to write, and I’ll intersperse that writing with work.
A rich life is a good life
I finish this year having confidence in who I am, and what I need and desire for a rich life. I say “rich” as opposed to using the term “happy” because a complete life experience requires an entire gamut of emotional and physical experiences. Pain, sadness, loss, and loneliness are the complements to their opposites, and the most interesting people I’ve met know them intimately. It is a blessing to survive adversity because, although you may come out with scars, you come out with the ability and knowledge that you can heal. This ironically helps in software engineering as well, which has consistent challenge and uncertainty. You can dive into anything not having confidence of understanding, but having confidence in your ability to eventually get there.
The embracing of authenticity and proactivity are also still important to me. We decide who we want to be, are genuine about it, and pursue it without making excuses. When we make mistakes, we ponder them, decide to change, and do it. A victim mentality looks at the world and finds reasons that it has been unfair to it. An empowered mentality takes responsibility for those same observations and becomes the impetus of change. This is the standard that I strive for, and I am committed to continue to work on myself, physically, emotionally, and intellectually, to pursue growth and avoid complacency.
This year, my heart was full. I saw beauty all around me. I embraced reflection, quiet, and imagination. I’d like to share some of these thoughts today.
I learned my limits
I have a superpower of productivity. I can’t explain it, but I can focus and get a lot done, and in a short amount of time. I am mentally strong in that it is hard for my environment, whether that be social or academic pressure, to touch me. I romanticize this story sometimes, imagining myself moving through chaos, time slowed down, and brushing aside the bullets. My heart is inspired by the things that fill it with love. It also can make it hard to relate to other people, because I might understand and see the same stressors, but I don’t feel them as strongly. In a culture where it is trendy and common to be busy, I am not. I am dancing in my head, and I follow my nose and pursue things that are inspiring, or bring me joy. This year, however, I would learn the physical limits of my gift.
My team embarked on a large performance study in August. We had a very short amount of time to do a lot of work, and there are only a handful of us. I was excited and determined to have a successful outcome, so I made an explicit decision to turn on my turbo mode, and not take it off. This is an interesting quality of my productivity – that I can turn it on and off at will, and strategically direct it along with my attention. However, instead of a few hours in a day, it was turbo mode for the entirety of the day, and for weeks. We ultimately completed most of what we set out to do. I felt proud, both of myself and my team.
But after it ended, and I looked down at myself, I realized that the effort physically took something out of me. There was less of me by the end of the month, 12 pounds to be exact. My frame has always been long with lean muscle, and this doesn’t make me a huge person, so that was too much to lose. It felt terrible. It was the same lesson that I had learned when I was a freshman and new to running, and would push myself to collapse, either on the track, or completely blacking out in a cross country race. My mind has always been a lot stronger than my body, which feels tiny in comparison. I learned that my mind, which often wants to conquer mountains, needs to be more considerate of the bag of bones and meat that carry it around. Or flip that around, and the lesson is that I need to make my body stronger to match the demands of my mind.
I learned to say no
The end of the study combined with the end of a fiscal year, and shifting of work that led to a lot of rumination. I thought about my efforts the previous year, and while the majority were fulfilling, I couldn’t ignore a creeping feeling of sadness from some of the pursuits where I was working really hard, and trying desperately to be valued. I could complete entire projects on my own, make documentation, presentations, and give talks at high profile venues, but I still felt disconnected. I decided that I needed to introspect on this feeling, and that the experiences of the last year were not OK for me to repeat.
For most of the year I blamed myself for not finding the right way to connect. Many of us have experienced this. We try to fit into group dynamics, and give huge amounts of energy and time. What I’ve come to realize is that often there is no maliciousness or negative intent on anyone’s part. Communication is a two way street. It is simply the case that people vary in the degree to which they can successfully communicate, and the extent to which they try. The latter can make up for the first, but requires time that isn’t always possible to give. I was spreading myself too thin trying for universal connection when more realistically, I needed to prune my graph. Constantly showing up and hoping for connection when the dynamic was not there was not something I was not going to do anymore.
I decided to change
Pruning a connection graph means tweaking the scoring algorithm at each node. My previous algorithm was faulty, and included a variable of wanting to be accepted. The trade-off was placing less emphasis on consideration of my own time and value. I decided to try a new algorithm – one that would place focus on the projects that I was passionate about, and listening for connection instead of trying to force it. When the noise of expectations becomes more quiet, the signal from people that value our contributions can be more strongly heard. It was akin to moments this year when I found myself in the middle of nature and heard – felt – the quiet. It was there all along.
I decided to change in many ways, and this was the first: prioritizing relationships not based on expectation or idealistic desire, but tangible evidence. And it needs to go both ways – we need to invest in the other person as well. If you need an algorithm for knowing if someone is important to you, think of how often you think of them. If you find them on your mind, or they are the person you want to brainstorm ideas with? That speaks for itself. I used to associate missing with sadness, because it meant something I treasured was not there. I’ve changed that perspective to a more positive one. Missing someone is a beautiful thing, because it means you were lucky to find connection. In many cases you will see them again, and that is something to look forward to. If you won’t? You can be grateful to have had shared experiences with them, and carry those memories with you.
When I refocused my energy, the sadness not only dissipated, but my metaphorical connection tree is thriving, growing stronger roots and fewer, healthier and more verdant leaves. As I am able to focus on signal that I think is important for our community, I am becoming a better technical leader. I don’t fit any templates for what that is supposed to look like, and I realize that I won’t, and that in and of itself is important for the ecosystem. After this subtle change I’ve found a level of joy and satisfaction in my work that is unparalleled even to the best times I had before.
I decided to adventure
Rumination might start from one thread, but has a quality of trickling easily into other parts of life. As I thought about how I spent my time, I didn’t like the idea that life would be as it is now, forever. Routine provides consistency and safety, but we can also get stuck in them. I have the duality of liking routine, which is safe, contrasted with a heart that craves adventure. That manifests in careful reflection and decision to pursue experiences that are novel and allow me to break free from comfort zones.
As a result, at the end of this year I sought adventure. I found that I needed to be brave, because I had grown up learning a mindset of fear. I embarked on an over 1000 mile road trip, found myself exploring mountains, flying down steep hills on my bike, and unapologetically experiencing all the beauty that the world has to offer. In retrospect, I was able to turn a knob to control my own level of risk aversion to be oriented to risk seeking. I embraced uncertainty. It was not accidental, but done through careful decision, and I can attest I had moments where I would sit in quiet thought and not stand up until I felt a shift in my perspective. I didn’t know that was possible. It’s fascinating that the mind is capable of that. I learned that joy comes from immersion in new experiences and adventures, and it’s relatively easy to decide to pursue them more often. I am excited for a life where I have these adventures to look forward to.
I learned friendships are tiny and powerful
At the end of last year (2023), I had an epiphany that I needed people. This was a surprise for me because during times of my life when things have been hard, I’ve learned to find strength from within myself. What I wasn’t sure about at the end of last year was the details of that. How many people? Under what context? What specifically were my needs? The last is an important question, because I’ve noticed it is common to have a need or request but not think carefully through what you are actually asking of others.
I learned this year that I only need a few, and I value close friendships that are open, vulnerable, and supportive over any volume of people that often forces more superficial interaction. My desire is for direct communication, and interactions of sharing stories, learning, and joy. I want laughing fits, and I want psychological safety. If there is conflict, that means that the other person metaphorically embraces you and shows you through their actions that you are going to figure it out. They will not abandon you or give up on you, and disagreement is tackled with thoughtful discussion and kindness. They consistently show up when you don’t ask them to, in the good times and more the bad, and they absolutely don’t have to. Once I experienced (and fully realized the power) behind this kind of communication, in contrast to blaming, shaming, and feeling like you are put on the defense? I metaphorically fell to my knees. I am tearing up as I write this. I am so grateful.
I learned to set boundaries
We can often tolerate things because we are supposed to. Because if we don’t, we are publicly shamed. Or we compare ourselves to an ideal and feel that we have failed. We might keep trying, and blame ourselves. I had an epiphany this year when I realized that this self-blame was counterproductive toward protecting myself. In the same way that some people feed our souls and we might nourish these relationships, we equivalently need to be aware of those that drain us. I decided this year that I would do a better job to protect myself, and set boundaries. A quick feeling of dread and anxiety in specific situations was a harbinger of something that was not good for me. It is not selfish to not want these negative experiences anymore. We don’t have to engage. We can walk away.
It would be akin to being in a room with a stove, and having to touch it. Sometimes it’s off, and it’s OK. But then it often burns you. It hurts. You know the pain is coming again, but it’s unpredictable. The stove in this metaphor might be a person or experience, and either way, may not even be aware of its influence. The stoves in our lives are there to teach us lessons. The insight I had is that it is my choice for the stove to have that power over me, or not. I decided to learn from the experience, and leave that room. This choice was empowering, and I encourage others to set boundaries for the stoves in their lives, whatever they may be.
I learned to love
There is a common association of love with ownership and possession. While I won’t say that’s wrong, what I realized this year is that truly selfless love has no quality of that. I believe that truly loving someone means deriving joy from their happiness, and not expecting anything in return. In the best of worlds it is sharing experiences and laughter, and feeling a sense of connection that feeds your soul. It is wanting to support them, and give them your time and every facet of your superpower. You would run mountains for them. You would wait a thousand years to show up for them. Love is often portrayed to be primarily romantic, but it can be found in friendships, and in friends that turn into your family. Importantly, we must be able to apply that love to ourselves. When things fall apart, it is a hug of internal strength and determination that ultimately gets us through. This was a thought I had this year that gave me a feeling of immense safety and peace.
Thank you, 2024
It was a beautiful year. I’ve learned how to embrace what I have instead of focusing on what I do not, approach life with curiosity and desire for growth, and how daily fulfillment and taking care of the self is more of a decision than anything else. I danced and laughed so much this year, and that is a strong attestment of my joy 🥰. I think if this were it, I could look back on my life and find that I have had it all. I am convinced that it’s only going to get better. Happy holidays, folks, and onward to new adventures and learning in the New Year.
Suggested Citation:
Sochat, Vanessa. "Reflections for 2024." @vsoch (blog), 22 Dec 2024, https://vsoch.github.io/2024/reflections/ (accessed 22 Dec 24).