Nine Photos, Infinite Lessons: A Year-End Reflection and New Year Ritual

Every year, I post my “Top 9” photos on Instagram. It’s a little tradition I’ve come to enjoy, even though it never fully captures the entire story. Vital people and places get left out. Core memories do not make the cut. Still, it’s a sweet reminder of just how many blessings fit inside a single year.

Nine photos always make a cute Instagram post.

But a year can never be simplified into just nine frames.

If you told me on January 1 what this year would hold, I would have smiled politely and assumed you were reading someone else’s bingo card. So much of the year was not on my vision board, and yet it unfolded with a kind of magic I could not have planned.

I am quietly proud of what came through, and deeply grateful for the people, places, and moments that carried me. These nine photos cannot hold it all, but they hint at the many more people, places, and memories that made this year what it was. I’m still practicing balance and boundaries, but this year reminded me that the right opportunities meet us when we keep showing up with an open heart.

Visibility Grew Alongside Vulnerability

There’s a version of me that used to believe I had to be “more ready” before I could be seen.

More polished.

More certain.

More impressive.

More… something.

But this year, I allowed myself to be vulnerable in new ways. And instead of being punished for it, I was met. Opportunities arrived not when everything was perfect, but when I was willing to show up honestly and keep going anyway.

Creatively, I said yes to rooms and stages that once felt out of reach. I was a guest on multiple podcasts, including The Radleigh Valentine Show, launched a digital tarot deck, filmed with HubSpot twice, spoke at INBOUND, and released two full seasons of the Cosmic Waves Podcast with Deborah Rahalski. I published 17 blog posts, completed 15 collaborations, hosted 12 Angel Party events, and said yes to new levels of visibility.

It would be easy to make that list the headline. But the headline is what it required of me: the willingness to be seen while still becoming.

When the Work Honors You Back

This year also brought a kind of recognition that felt less like “achievement” and more like affirmation.

Through my work, I was honored to be published in four anthologies, received Honorable Mention from Hay House for my memoir, taught my first course, Color Your Spirit, and opened registration for an in-person writer’s workshop.

I share this not as a highlight reel, but as proof of something I want you to remember when your mind starts whispering doubts:

Your work matters.

Your devotion matters.

Even when the results arrive later than you want. Even when the path looks different than you expected. Even when it feels like you are creating in the dark.

Sometimes the work keeps going… and then one day you look up and realize the world has been watching.

The World Didn’t Let Us Stay Comfortable

On the civic and political front, the climate did not let many of us stay comfortable, so we showed up.

In my own community, that meant stepping into leadership and local organizing: President of PG Progressives, a CADEM delegate, attending my first Democratic Convention, and serving as District 5 Representative to the Monterey County Democrats. It meant rallies and coalition events, local canvassing for Prop 50, parades, and the slow, steady work of building a stronger foundation for what comes next.

One of the quieter lessons of this year was that community is not a slogan. It’s a practice.

It’s showing up even when you are tired.

It’s listening even when you want to be right.

It’s staying engaged even when the world is loud, messy, and heartbreaking.

It’s choosing courage in the small moments, again and again, until the small moments build momentum.

Art Kept the Heart Open

Art kept me inspired in a year that demanded both softness and stamina.

Theatre and museums reminded me why imagination and truth matter. I saw 22 shows across Broadway, the West End, and the Bay Area, and every curtain call felt like a gentle instruction: stay brave, stay tender, keep creating.

Travel gave me perspective, too, including a once-in-a-lifetime family trip to Portugal and London that connected me to roots, history, and wonder. And I can’t forget the joy in the small things: new experiences, new places, new recipes, and the simple synchronicities of everyday life.

The older I get, the more I understand that wonder is not extra. It is essential. It is not a reward for a life well lived. It is part of what makes life feel worth living while you are in it.

The Headline Is the Throughline

So here’s my truth of the year, beneath all the events and accomplishments:

Visibility grew alongside vulnerability.

The more I let go of the outcome and stayed faithful to the work, the more opportunities found their way to me. Not because I controlled the timeline perfectly, but because I loosened my grip. Not because I finally became fearless, but because I stopped letting fear make decisions for me.

Community held strong, beauty and history offered perspective, and art kept the heart open. And even when things did not go according to plan, there was still a steady current of grace carrying me forward.

If Your Year Didn’t Go According to Plan

If your year has not gone according to plan, let this be your reminder: you do not have to predict the path to walk it.

You do not need the whole map to take the next step. You do not have to know precisely how things will unfold to begin. Sometimes we only get one clear instruction at a time.

Keep showing up.

Keep saying yes.

Keep building what you are here to create.

An Invitation for Your Year Ahead

As we step into a new year, I want to offer you an invitation—not a pressure-filled resolution:

Release the restrictions of your mind.

The mind loves conditions. It loves to say:

“I will begin when I feel confident.”

“I will share when it is perfect.”

“I will go for it when I am sure I will not be embarrassed.”

“I will say yes after I fix the thing.”

But magic does not usually meet us inside those cages.

Magic meets us in motion. Magic meets us in honesty. Magic meets us in the moment we stop negotiating our worthiness and start living from it.

Reflection Prompts for the New Year

• Where am I trying to control the timeline instead of trusting the unfolding?

• What would I create if I stopped demanding perfection from myself?

• Where am I being invited to be more visible, even if it feels tender?

• What unexpected yes might be waiting on the other side of one brave choice?

• What would change if I assumed life wants to collaborate with me?

A Small Ritual: Loosen Your Grip

You will need:

A candle (or any small light)

A notebook

Two minutes of honesty

Light the candle and take three slow breaths. Let it be a symbol of your life force, your creativity, your spirit.

Write one sentence: This year, I release…

Name the thing you have been gripping too tightly.

Then write one sentence: This year, I choose…

Name the energy you want to embody instead.

Close with a straightforward request:

Show me the next step.

Not the whole staircase. Just the next step.

A Bigger New Year Ritual: The Spacious Yes

If you want something more ceremonial than a resolution, and softer than a vision board, here is a New Year ritual for opening the year to synchronicity and magic—without trying to micromanage the outcome.

This is not about forcing the universe’s hand. It’s about becoming someone who can recognize the invitations when they arrive.

You will need:

A candle (or any small light)

A journal

A pen

10–20 quiet minutes

Step 1: Open the Channel

Light the candle. Place one hand on your heart. Take three slow breaths.

Say (out loud if you can):

I am open to being surprised. I release the need to control how it arrives.

Step 2: The One-Page Release

On a fresh page, write:

This year, I am done carrying…

Let it be honest. Let it be specific. Let it be messy if it needs to be.

When you’re done, draw a line under it and write:

Thank you for what you taught me. You can go now.

(If you want a physical gesture, fold the page and place it under a book, or tear it up and throw it away. Not as drama—just as a signal to your nervous system: we’re not gripping this anymore.)

Step 3: Choose Three North Star Feelings

Now choose three feelings you want to recognize as confirmation signals in the year ahead.

Not achievements. Not milestones.

Feelings.

Examples: expansive, grounded, delighted.

Or free, brave, held.

Or clear, supported, alive.

Write them at the top of the next page like a compass.

Step 4: Make One Sacred Agreement

Under your three feelings, complete this sentence:

If I want to feel ______, ______, and ______, then I am willing to practice…

Choose one practice that supports those feelings. Keep it small enough to be real.

Examples:

• “I am willing to practice telling the truth sooner.”

• “I am willing to practice consistency over intensity.”

• “I am willing to practice holy boundaries.”

• “I am willing to practice creating even when it’s imperfect.”

  
  

This becomes your anchor when your mind tries to bargain with conditions again.

Step 5: Ask for the Next Step

Close your journal and whisper:

Life, show me what is next—and help me recognize it.

Then do one final thing: commit to being responsive.

Write this at the bottom of the page:

When the next step appears, I will take it within 48 hours.

Not because you have to hustle.

Because magic loves participation.

Optional: The Synchronicity Log

If you want to keep the channel open all year, add this simple practice:

Once a week, write down three moments of guidance you noticed—tiny coincidences, nudges, repeating themes, unexpected help.

Not to “prove” anything.

Just to train your attention to recognize support.

Because the more you notice life meeting you, the easier it becomes to trust that it will.

With Gratitude, Always

Nine photos cannot contain a year. But they can remind us that we lived it. That we made it through. That we loved. That we tried. That we kept showing up.

If this year was anything, it was a reminder that the plan is not always the point.

Sometimes the detour is the destination. Sometimes the surprise is the blessing. Sometimes the year that didn’t go as planned becomes the year that quietly changes everything.

So for this coming year, my hope for you is simple:

Keep showing up. Keep saying yes. Keep building what you are here to create.

And let life meet you there.