Thanks, 2024: The Whole Bowl Glued Back Together

I’m all for the end of the year, spending time with family and reflecting on what was accomplished the past twelve months. Watching Christmas movies, eating cookies and wondering when the kids last showered.

For me, this was a year of momentum, moving me from recovering to recovered. 2024 was a steady build based on a new direction set in motion four years ago. All the scraping, climbing, working, learning, planting and resting came to fruition.

Hearts and Snowballs

Remember that one time a pandemic cracked everything apart, forcing us into survival mode to unsuccessfully save the status quo? Good times.  

A lot can change in four years. People start and complete degrees. New humans are born and grow into little people with opinions and talents. And a new approach to life can close some doors and create new momentum through new ones.

Like the person with temporary, superhuman strength lifts a car, so I was in February as I blew through the house in Tasmanian Devil mode to set up my new home office, the external renovations aligning with the internal ones. An “on” switch flipped for me that month. The metaphorical snowball of my reimagined life was rolling and never really stopped all year.

I “exorcised the demons” and found peace by telling my story in multiple ways, including through a memoir class and at several speaking events throughout the year, culminating in a woman’s heart health event where I spent a love-filled evening with some of my closest family and friends. Maybe it’s not such a coincidence that this year’s journey was heart-centered, marked by February, the month of love; May, where my brother and sister-in-law gave us a whole new person to love; and October, when heart health and friendship were celebrated.

Recovered Satellites

If this all sounds annoyingly good and you’re wondering where the irreverent grump from 2021 went, I get it. (Btw, she’s still on Facebook complaining about raising teenagers.) I remind myself often that it took a lot of tough times and snarky blogs to fix what was eating me. It’s OK to be OK. It might be a little boring to read about, but if you’re the grump now, just know that it can get better. A lot better. It takes time, the right tools and mindset and work. Importantly, it takes surrounding yourself with the right people who believe in you and support you.

This year was full of full circle moments – people, places, experiences. So many, in fact, the number of them started to feel eerie. Maybe it’s just having lived for this long, or maybe shaking everything up allowed me to let go of things that weren’t serving me and welcome back parts of me that I’d sent away to orbit. (Hence, the Counting Crows reference.)

Oh, The Places You’ll Go

My business, Stomp Strategy LLC, was really real this year with a logo and a website and some amazing projects. Thank you to all my wonderful clients. It truly was a blessing to focus first and foremost on bringing value to grow your businesses and support your goals.

Highlights of the year included reconnecting with two childhood friends (and their families) in two geographies for amazing experiences. If you had told me last year I’d be on a video production set in Kalamazoo, Michigan, riding a Segway with my friends from L.A., or learning about barbeque and the telecommunications industry in Lenexa, Kansas, I wouldn’t have had the faintest idea of how that happened. (Turns out it happened because NW Iowa raised some strong, smart and brave women.)

I spent a wonderful few days huddled with a flock of women near the beach in South Carolina talking about burnout. I hung out with a group of swine professionals in Illinois in the middle of a thunderstorm, sharing a flashlight while talking with young female leaders about building confidence.

I traveled back to Northwest Iowa to work with a wonderful group of veterinarians on communication. Parked in the country on a gravel road, I was reminded of the peace of being where the only sound was the swish, swish, swish of the electric windmill, the crickets and the crunch of gravel, and the only light was a spotlight over a barn, fireflies and the red flashing light on the windmill.

I’m Back, Baby

We can’t completely erase tough times. They become part of our character, just like the Japanese kintsugi bowls where cracks are repaired with gold. Yes, the bowl is no longer new and pristine, but it’s much more interesting, and you could argue it’s stronger from all the golden lessons.

I’m a bowl glued back together, and the cracks filled with gold, ready to see what I can hold this time. Let’s do this, 2025! Bring on the new calendars where anything is possible.

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