This time last year, I had every intention of making 2024 add up to something substantial. But the vague futility of that human urge to make every calendar year count was laid bare.
In comparison, a filler year feels empty, insubstantial, unmemorable. Why was 2024 a filler year? I'd love to tell you.
I worked, rested and had plenty of goals to reach, but the harder I tried to attain them, the more they seemed to elude me.
The sensation of treading water felt like a necessary adjustment, and I came to realise that I don't need every year to be monumental.
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