Happy New Year (or whatever)

I'm not in the mood!

Happy New Year!! I sit here, starting to write at 5:56am on New Year’s Eve 2024 (and finishing/editing at 5:48pm on New Year’s Eve 2024). I’ve been putting it off, but I’ve decided now’s the time to try to write this thing I’ve been putting off writing all week—The New Year’s Post. Hopefully, I’ve caught you before you head out (or head to bed), but if not HAPPY NEW YEAR! Cheers to 2025, and to doing things even if we’re not in the mood for it.

I’ve been grappling with how I want to approach The New Year’s Post, and despite not knowing how I want to approach this, I have overall been called to write something. Do I share a 2024 roundup of things I’ve done? Accomplished even? Things I’ve learned? Big lessons and milestones? Do I make it cheeky and keep the list to 24 things¹? Do I do the ‘resolution’ or ‘look ahead’ post, where I talk about all the opportunities I see for 2025 and all the things I want to do² to make big! grand! sweeping! changes?

Sure. Fine. Whatever. I think to myself.

Through these drafts and thoughts and edits, one thing has become super clear to me: I’m not in the mood for the normal pomp and circumstance of reflecting on the year behind and setting myself up to talk about the year ahead. I’m not in the mood to reflect, I’m not in the mood to make a bunch of goals and hope I stick to them, and I’m not in the mood to create lists of what I’ve learned, what I’m leaving behind, and what my ‘ins and outs’ are.

I’m just not in the mood.

A moment to pause so I can make a(n obligatory) comment: I am not anti-New Year’s. I am not anti-goal, anti-resolution, or anti-reflection. I love having plans on New Year’s Eve and being social and bopping around or if we’re staying in (like this year) making somewhat of a big deal about it. I like to look back and see what I have done and also like to look ahead and make plans.

If anything, I really love an arbitrary, socially constructed milestone to recommit to myself and my goals and whatever—I really am a sucker for that stuff, and I can’t think of a more arbitrary and socially constructed milestone than the new year! I have absolutely made vision boards in the past, set very specific resolutions and goals, done the journaling, the reflecting, the look-back instagram posts, 13-card tarot spreads, etc etc.

But this year, I’m just not in the mood.

various photos from various new year's past: house parties, meals in, charcuterie boards, reflections, street fireworks, etc

That’s not to say I’m not looking forward to the new year—I’m looking forward to leaving 2024 behind and entering 2025. I have spent a good chunk of the last few days just thinking about 2024 in an unstructured way and looking ahead to the ~possibilities~ of 2025.

I’m looking forward to being out of the holidays and back to some normalcy and am hoping I feel that sense of renewal or resurgence that hits when the holidays pass. I’d bet a pretty hefty wager that I do, in fact, pick back up with working out in January and have a bunch of cleaning planned this week to set the tone for the year.

I guess in some sense, my body and subconscious are already gearing up for 2025 and to be out of the holidays, almost like something that’s been ingrained in me throughout my life. So it’s funny to say I’m not in the mood when I’ve been getting ready without much work. If I’m already physically and mentally gearing up for it, why am I not in the mood?

The effortlessness of quietly reflecting and thinking about the possibilities of what’s to come is all fine, but the officialness of writing down resolutions or journaling reflections from the last year? No thanks—not in the mood! But then this begs the question: what am I in the mood for?

At this exact moment, I do not know. Something casual maybe, something lighthearted. Something that acknowledges the passing of time via a milestone we all deem important. Is that okay?

I know I am over the holidays. I had a really lovely lovely Christmas and have enjoyed the slowdown a bit, but I am ready to get back to reality. I know that there are parts of my routine that ebbed and flowed during the last year that I am ready to get back to. I know I want to make time for all the things that make me me, continue to write, and attempt to break out of my shell more. I know I want to better stand up for myself and what I think is important, trust my intuition, and live a life I find to be fulfilling.

some photos of said lovely christmas <3

But I also know I don’t want to do any of that, or talk about any of that, just because one year is ending and another is beginning.

If I had to quantify why I am feeling this way, I think it’s partially because when I look ahead to 2025, I can’t really see anything. Let me explain.

Life is obviously unpredictable in many ways and it is also predictable in many ways. Often, even with the unpredictability, I can look ahead on a year and sort of understand what it will look like. Sometimes, that is totally flipped on its head (2016³, 2019⁴, 2020⁵). Sometimes, there are really big things planned that I’m excited for or working for that anchor the year, even if I don’t quite know what that year will bring (2021⁶, 2022⁷, 2023⁸).

This year is different. I have more questions than answers going into 2025, and to some extent I am mourning the idea of the year I thought we were going to have that has been put on pause.

Up until about a month ago, 2025 was supposed to be the year we bought our first home and, spoiler: most likely that home was going to be in a city that is not New York and is instead a place we grew to quickly love but have absolutely zero familial or personal connection to⁹). We’ve since pivoted and kissed those plans goodbye when my husband was laid off in November, and it was the right thing to do—with everything going on, a home purchase is just no longer in our best interest.

That being said, we talked a lot about this plan, found a city (that we’d never been to!) we actually both really really like (which was really hard to do—at least one of us has a reason we don’t want to live in every other city in the country), and made the decision: we’re moving in 2025. We had a realtor, a lender, and were ready to really get the ball rolling on this process early in the New Year. This wasn’t a pipe dream or a ‘maybe one day…’ but rather something we were really doing and were ready to dive in headfirst.

I felt really certain about what 2025 was going to bring for a good chunk of the past year, and I can’t say that’s the case anymore.

On the surface, 2025 isn’t going to look much different than 2024. We’ll be in the same home, in the same neighborhood, in the same city, probably doing many of the same things. But with so much up in the air about the future, I’m finding myself living in this ‘wait and see limbo’ world.

One of the things my husband and I talked a lot about was how scary a move like this can be, but how we don’t want fear to get in the way of our decision making. I would much rather move somewhere and hate it (and move back eventually) than not move out of fear and wonder “what if”.

Now, I fear we’ll be stuck with those looming what ifs for awhile. What if it really is now or never? What if we regret that? What if everyone else discovers our gem and this city faces a crazy housing surge and we can’t afford that either? What if we stay and get complacent? What if we stay and it’s right but we still wonder what if?

It’s too soon to tell whether or not that is off the table in years to come, but what is clear is that it isn’t happening now. Even though life in 2025 will now look similar in many ways to what it did in 2024, I am having more trouble visualizing the year ahead than I did when it was filled with unknowns—albeit ones we thought were certain.

I’ll be honest, that’s frustrating—it’s like knowing the lyrics to a song but not the melody¹⁰. I know how to go through the motions and understand the logistics of what is to come, but I’m missing a big (and arguably, very important) part of the equation.

At the same time, it’s also comforting in moments. Yesterday, my son and I went on a sweet walk to a neighborhood playground, something that feels very familiar. On our way out of the playground, we met two NYPD horses (Mason and Limerick)—a brand new experience (my son’s first time seeing horses IRL). This moment gives me a bit of hope for what’s to come. I might know a lot of what’s coming and the year ahead might feel very familiar, but there are still surprises that will unfold along the way.

I just have to trust I’ll find them when I’m supposed to.

with mason, at the park

While I was watching some Chicago PD this afternoon (and taking a well-deserved break from writing) The Simplest New Year Tarot Spread Ever, by Carrie Mallon¹¹, found its way to my inbox. In it, she shares a tarot spread she created for the New Year. When I read her email, something clicked. While I hadn't been in the mood for anything too grand before, this spread was simple (just two cards) and I immediately knew I was in the mood for this.

I grabbed my deck and pulled two cards—one for integration (what lessons from the past year need to be carried forward) and one for exploration (what to consider and seek out in the year ahead).

For integration, I pulled the Ten of Swords. And what a card to pull on the very last day of the year! I will be the first to admit that when things don't go the way I thought they would, I very easily get wrapped up in the drama and the 'woe is me' of it all. The Ten of Swords asks me to let it go and leave behind the melodrama and the victim mentality. In this 'integration' position, it also seems to be asking me to really allow myself to focus on the light in these situations—the worst is behind me, and this gives me permission to leave it all in 2024 in order to make space for what's next.

For exploration, I pulled the Ace of Swords. In contrast to the Ten, the Ace is all about potential, new perspectives, and mental clarity. What if I don’t need a perfect plan to move forward? What other perspectives can I find to help me navigate what's next?

After pulling those two cards, I pulled the Daughter (Page) of Cups as an extra third card—an action card to help me navigate how to bring this to fruition. Cups are tied to emotions, intuition, and connection—the heart, as opposed to the mind. This card reminds me to trust my inner voice and listen to my intuition rather than forcing clarity or decisions before their time.

If the Ten of Swords is about letting go and the Ace of Swords is about beginning again, the Daughter of Cups is a reminder to take those steps with trust, emotional clarity, and a willingness to be led by both curiosity and care. These cards feel like a little nudge: let go of what didn’t work out, stay open to new ideas, and trust that I’ll figure it out as I go.

So once again I will try to answer the question: what am I in the mood for? The truth is, it changes moment to moment. Even while writing this throughout the day, I’ve felt a change in my overall mood.

Right now, I’m in the mood for reflection without making grand promises or gestures. I’m in the mood to acknowledge where I’ve come from and what lies ahead without turning it into such a big deal. I know that in 2025 I’m ready to trust what’s coming and to trust myself, while also finding solace in the fact that I don’t know everything.

Tomorrow (or even tonight as we approach midnight) I might feel differently—and that’s okay. The more I allow myself to not be in the mood and reflect, the more I think that the lesson of this New Year’s is about honoring whatever mood I’m in, trusting that it is enough to carry me forward. And knowing it’s okay to not be in the mood.

Happy New Year (or whatever). Here’s to meeting the year as it comes, in whatever mood it finds us, and to trusting that we’re ready to take on what life brings our way.

1. I have a draft of this, it might die there.

2. I have a draft of this too. This one might see the light one day.

3. We unexpectedly moved to California from Baltimore in the fall (due to my now-husband’s job)

4. We unexpectedly moved from California to New York, again in the Fall (due to my job)

5. We all know what happened here, right?

6. Starting the year knowing we’d be getting married!

7. Starting the year knowing we’d try to get pregnant

8. Starting the year pregnant!

9. maybe more to come later…if you know me you can deduce some details but not sharing the city for those out of the loop for now.

10. Bear with me—analogies were never my strength.

11. Tarot is a very personal private things for me, and Carrie is someone I’ve looked to for guidance and understanding for years. Highly recommend her if this is your thing.