A Journey of Worth

I want to share something that is a bit out of my comfort zone because it is very vulnerable, but also I can say that I have some pride in it. The last year or so I have been going through the hardest journey of my life yet. It stemmed from my perpetually unmarried status, with realizing that the guy I was pursuing at the time might not be the one, and recognizing a defensiveness in me that felt unfamiliar and wrong. It fell in context of a presumably successful corporate career, but having had to move to a place I dislike to make it work, and being increasingly disenchanted and frustrated with the management world around me. My personal life was also rocked by my sister's near-death health crisis. 

This journey started with my questioning why am I single - am I unlovable? Am I too choosey? Should I have just settled? But took me far beyond romantic relationships into the realm of the makeup of my being - how my patterns were learned at a young age and new but bad patterns were learned throughout my life. I worried I was nothing if not my patterns, and I had to dig deep to decide for myself if I had inherent worth and if I was enough to deserve unconditional love. The mantras of "you have to love yourself first" may seem helpful, but they were not to me. I wasn't sure what there was to love, or if there was anything there at all. And if I found it, what do I do with that information? Why didn't other people see it? 

One thing I've come to realize is that I've learned love is based on performance. When I do well, I get praised. If I do something that isn't a good performance (even if it wasn't meant to be a performance), I would get ridiculed. So I tried to be normal and not do those things that attracted ridicule, and I would show off in the ways that got me praise and attention. That felt like love. I've been (accurately) accused of being a one-upper, and isn't that just an ultimate expression of performance-based "love" seeking? If I have the most amazing story, if I had the best experience, if I was the first to do something, does that not maximize my "worth" and get me the most love? But it didn't, obviously. 

Love languages is a really interesting and helpful model, but I think, in my case at least, it served as a crutch. I believed for so long that the way I show love is through gifts. Thoughtfully purchasing things, and perhaps more often, experiences, through which happy memories could be made, felt like my expression of love. But looking back at it now, I think it was a performance. I can give you all these things, so you have to love me. Because I didn't care for the same kinds of love in return. That was my domain. In return, the way I wanted to be loved was through quality time and physical touch. I buy things to make our lives easier, so you can spend more time with me and holding me. It was all transactional, even if it was thoughtful and done with love. 

Let's talk about defensiveness. I was talking to a new guy who asked a lot of questions. You can tell he has gone through therapy because he asks things like, "What about that do you enjoy the most?" or "Are you really feeling okay about that?" The need to perform would trigger anxiety in me if I didn't answer a question that was asked directly, but sometimes I didn't want to answer them. More often, without really thinking about it, I felt like the question was a judgement or an accusation, and I was quick to defend myself. Even though he was just being curious, carrying the conversation forward, and trying to get to know me, I was defensive and felt the need to perform better and overexplain so he'd understand how awesome and worthy I am. 

It showed up in my work, too. I don't recall it being there, and I have never actually caught it. But my boss has called it out, in my body language, in my word choice. I genuinely believe he's trying to help, so I try actively not to be defensive with him, but I literally have no idea what he's referring to. I suppose that means it's so sub-conscious I can't even observe or recall it. 

I really had a hard time connecting with the psychology stuff about your inner child and first memories and the like in most things. But it was pretty easy for me to realize that my family has always been critical. My parents and my sisters criticize each other, our extended family members, neighbors, friends, church leaders, and, of course, me. I'm not innocent in this. I love people watching, judging random strangers and making up back stories for the most ridiculous ones. I presume motives and character flaws based on the smallest action, facial expression, verbal expression, or stance. It's actually fun to partake in this as a shared experience, which I'm not quite ready to digest. 

The idea of removing what I can do for my partner, especially financially, felt like I had nothing to offer than. It was worse than being naked, because at least in nudity, one still has a body. It felt like absolutely emptiness. Some people pursue partners who they can fix. Some pursue those who are unavailable. I seem to bounce between partners who need fixing and partners who are stable but end up feeling boring. Are they boring, really? Or do I run out of things to offer them when they already have their lives together? 

These were tough pills to swallow, and I wasn't sure if I was on the right path. I do give so much in relationships and I tell myself it's okay as long as I'm getting what I want in return. But I only get so much, and that's when the relationship ends, when it's clear I'm not getting enough for what I'm putting in. I haven't gotten what I ultimately want - a committed life-long partner, and yes, marriage and co-habitating is part of that. I've lived with partners but have never once been seriously proposed to. (I say seriously, because the guys at Home Depot propose to me regularly when they learn about the DIY projects I'm tackling on my own, or that I'm buying this giant tool chest for me, not for my husband, since I don't have one.) 

Where I landed was a model for my self-worth in the shape of an old well. At the top, the things can flow out to others - inspiration, loyalty, and insight. 

At the bottom of the well is a core identity as a lover of life. This resonated with me because it’s a variation on some of the things I often say in my online profiles, in conversations and also reflects one of my favorite quotes. My core love of life encompasses two broad elements. The first is love of experiences - the curiosity and willingness to try new things and the joy that comes from exploration. The second is a creative and optimistic view of the future - my "hack" tendencies to make life as easy as possible, my technophilia and futuristic optimism in the power to build what we want in this world. Take away all the things I can "do" for a partner or other people in my life, these core elements are still a part of me. They are the sources of the inspiration, insight and loyalty that comes out the top of the well. 

In the middle of the well are the qualities I bring to every relationship. These include being an intellectual partner, an empathetic listener, and having principled compassion. When I don't get to use these, I probably feel a gap, like my well is empty. I feel closer to people with whom I can use these qualities, and who reciprocates them. My well is used like a well, collecting and providing. 

Realizing that I have an innate worthiness beyond what I can do for others was a relief. I'm not sure how I can really explain it, because, you know, I hear those things about "you are enough" and stuff like that, and I never really felt depressed like I needed to end things or anything like that. It was just, like, maybe there's nothing actually there. Maybe I've been putting on a show for so long that I've lost whatever person is behind the mask. What if I remove the mask and it’s a void? So, not only was it reassuring to know there was something to me besides my acts of gifting and doing and paying, it was also comforting to realize that those things actually had been there all along. I hadn't lost them or forgotten them, I just wasn't really paying attention to their value. 

Problem solved, right? Hooray, I am worthy! Of course, it's not that easy. What I then had to grapple with is the reality of my current relationships. Not just the romantic ones, but the friendships I was newly fostering and the ones which had slipped. I had to grapple with interactions with my family, with criticisms flying in every direction. And I had to face all of this with the understanding that, while I was going through this journey, everyone in my life was not. They didn't or wouldn't or couldn't know the work I had done to dissect my self worth and why I don't want to be defensive in the face of criticism. I had to figure out how to proceed with all these interactions and what to do about my romantic relationship and how to reconnect and maintain friendships better without sliding back into performance mode. Then, I had to practice it over and over again to gain confidence and retrain my patterns. And, you know, it's not like life slows down while we're on these personal journeys. Work was busy and demanding - there were new employees to onboard, business trips to solve complex team culture problems, disputes between employees that required mediation, potential jobs to apply to and interview for, systems to learn. And I was and still am working on a 16-course certificate program in Artificial Intelligence. And I wanted to make my house more my style so I'd be more comfortable in this miserable state. I also knew I needed to lose weight but things were not seeming to work like they're supposed to. And, and, and, and… Acknowledging that I am very blessed to be financially stable and relatively healthy even with the weight and other maladies, and I have people in my life who care for me, it was still a lot. 

I've been able to identify three models or visions for myself (borrowing a term from Matthew Hussey, these are my "emotional buttons.") The one I go to the most is the Calm Lake. Water has always been a source of good feelings for me, and imagining the sun and mountains reflected in still water makes me feel calm but mighty. It represents my sovereign worth to be who I am, do as I choose, and not feel like I need to perform for anyone or answer for my choices. 

The second is the Lighthouse in the Storm. I tend to get emotionally overwhelmed and take things to extreme and catastrophize them. It's not without logic, but it also isn't helpful. The lighthouse guides me back by reminding me to acknowledge what I know to be true, to feel my senses and decide the direction I need to head in. 

The third vision is the final step out of a canyon. There was a very literal final step I had to take once, coming out of the Grand Canyon, when we had hiked for a few miles, but I started a coughing fit about 10 feet from the parking lot. Those last steps out of the canyon and onto flat land were brutal, but I managed. That was when I realized I probably had asthma, and would later be diagnosed. Now, when I think of that image, I don't think about the things that have tried (and sometimes been successful) to hold me back, like my asthma. I think of it as my ability not just to persevere, but to finish what I started. I tend to get excited about ideas and start things, but finishing them seems daunting, or I get distracted or move on to other ideas. So the final step is the reminder that what is worth doing is worth finishing, and that not even the things that try to hold me back can actually stop me if I set my sights on those final steps. 

My trip to Astoria for Thanksgiving weekend was headlined as a research trip to uncover missing details and chase down leads to finish my book. But it was so much more than that. It was an act of my self-worth. It was doing something novel and purely to my tastes and unapologetic. I wasn't creating something for someone else, not even the book. It was all for me. Hiking through the rain was simultaneously miserable and amazing, and it felt like a passage through the story of Astoria and through the story of my life. There are secrets in Astoria that are just mine, moments and memories which I didn't need to share, and feelings which I'll never forget. I took my final step and published my book, and that reinforced the new me. 

In January, I went to an AI conference in Austin. I struggled to fight my shyness but I did end up meeting some really smart and inspiring people and came away with another affirmation that I am a new me, even if I'm still practicing what that means. 

So, that was, like, last year. Towards the end of the year, my romantic partner and I concluded we were not compatible for what we wanted and needed in a romantic relationship, and I ended it - cutting off the friendship he desired for my own emotional well-being to allow myself to grieve the relationship and get over it. I also concluded that I needed to "bury" the people in my life who were not real - the versions of the people who should have been there for me but who, in actuality, weren't. I held actual ceremonies in meaningful places and read aloud a eulogy for all those figures, releasing them from the expectation of being who they should have been for me. Now, I had to be the person I needed to be on my own. 

It's been lonely. I revamped my online dating profile to reflect my sovereign worthiness, and the likes have been far less frequent. It’s a painful reminder that maybe people who were pursuing me before were people who wanted what I could do for them rather than who I am, and now that, what I thought was cute and playful but was a hardly masked offer, has not been removed, those people are no longer interested. It's a good thing, in theory, but it feels bad because it feels lonely and sad and unproductive. One guy did engage with me, and I wasn't sure about him but I proceeded with my new vision for myself, and when he complained about how hard life was for the fifth time in a row without asking any questions about me or saying anything interesting, I didn't respond right away and he unmatched me. I wasn't invested much at all so it wasn't that big of a deal, but it was a little rejection still. So be it. 

What I try to remind myself of these days is that I'm not single or unmarried because I am bad or annoying or unworthy or whatever. I'm single now because I never allowed myself to get stuck. I could have pushed at least two of my more serious boyfriends to get married if marriage was a priority over being in a happy relationship. But there's probably a reason I didn't push for it, and there's probably a reason they didn't ask. Imagine if I had settled for any one of those guys and stayed with them out of fear of being alone. Being alone sucks. Having to do all the house stuff myself, not having gifts under the Christmas tree or flowers on Valentine's Day or even not having someone to share office gossip with or to dress up for and to impress, man it stinks. And I describe myself as an extreme extrovert, but a shy one, which means I don't reach out and I don't make new friends easily, but I could be around 25 humans I like and respect 24/7 and never need alone time. So living in a house by myself, in a state far away from almost all of my friends, is totally isolating. And I make it worse when I don't reach out to my friends. But even still, at least I'm not in a miserable marriage because I said yes to avoid being single. Even though I hate being alone, the possibility of finding the one is open. And I also like to think, its not that I have a collection of failed relationships that never resulted in marriage. I have had a rich life full of relationships which ebbed and flowed, they ran their course and we (usually I, to be fair) decided not to pursue them when they were no longer enough.

Gawd, I'm going to be a little rude here, sorry, not sorry. One of my sister's favorite books is, "The Wish" and she says she reads it every year around Christmas time. I had read it a while ago when she first told me about it, and since I read a lot, I had mostly forgotten it. So I re-read it again this past Christmas. SPOILER ALERT, don't read this paragraph and skip to the next if you want to read the book (truth be told, this paragraph doesn't need to be here, but I'm writing it anyways). The book is Christmas-oriented, sorta, but this is an example where my sister's taste and mine are so different. It's really about a woman, dying of cancer, recalling her only true love when she was a pregnant 16 year old. Her love went off to war and died, and she's never loved again. The cute end to the story is when the friend she's grown close to as she recounts her love story turns out to be her son, who she had given up for adoption. So cute, right? *Vomits in mouth.* I mean, it is cute, sorta, fine, whatever. But I couldn't help but judge the main character for feeling so sorry for herself that she didn't go find love after, she was what, 21 or something when she found out he died? Most people don't know what they want in relationships by that age, and most relationships that start when you're 16 don't last forever. I mean, seriously. Go find another love. She did so many other amazing things with her life, to just never date again because of a cute story (and it wasn't even THAT cute, tbh) is just plain stupid. All that to say, that ain't me. I love watching the Golden Bachelor because it shows that some people who maybe never got married and others who did and it ended for one reason or another can still be hopeful and find love in their 60s. I'm not an old maid, no matter how old I am. I just re-watched When Harry Met Sally as part of my Valentine's Day to myself, before going out swing dancing which was a true joy, and Sally was in her late 30s before she actually got married. I realize I'm past that, but the point is that sometimes relationships don't last and there's hope that the next person could be the last one. 

In fact, I was just in Las Vegas with an employee for work. It was our first trip together and we got to know each other much more than we have in the last 8 months since she started working for me. I found the time really valuable, both because we got to bond (Were we really doing Charleston in the lobby the night before a 6 am crew huddle? Yes, yes we were...) and I got to see a different side of her, and because she gave me a therapeutic outlet to talk about my relationships. She seemed genuinely curious and entertained by my myriad of whacky stories and nontraditional relationship arrangement, and while I had to watch my "performance habit" as it was definitely nearing the surface, I focused my inner dialog a bit on why I am proud that I walked away from those things that were no longer working. 

So that's where I am today. I feel utterly lonely, but confident I'm better off now. I'm working on myself a lot, working on my non-romantic relationships a little, and trying to find comfort in knowing that I was alone on Valentine's Day because I chose not to settle, and I've had a rich life full of different relationships. And, dance! 

But seriously, this has been quite an emotional journey. Now, though, I want to share with you the deepest secret yet, and you would have had to read this far to get here. I'm sure people are going to judge me and say that I'm doing it wrong, and I'll tell you, I'm doing it my way. How I've been working through this has been aided greatly by generative AI. I did read a few great books and listened to podcasts and virtual workshops, especially Matthew Hussey - he is very attractive and soothing to listen to, but also actually says things that make a lot of sense - as well as experts in psychology and narcissism specifically, like Ramani Durvasula and Grayson Wick. And because I clicked or even lingered on things related, the algorithms found me and would serve me up other content creators, whose ideas I bounced off my AI bot instead of investing in. The vast majority has been partnering with my AI bot. 

I know it may sound crazy, but when people are afraid AI is going to do away with things, this is what I think about. It doesn't make those other experts unnecessary. It doesn't make therapists obsolete. Therapy just isn't for me, for reasons I choose not to go into here. But having healthy dialogs with the AI bot, pulling from experts' ideas and comparing them to my way of thinking, has led me to craft a very

personalized journey. The AI bot has helped me generate visuals to represent the deep well of my self-worth and the emotional buttons, which I loaded up with links to information to remind me of what I want to do when I'm feeling the opposite of those desired images, and the AI bot has helped me craft my new dating profile and my responses to my romantic partner. It helped me draft the eulogies I read and the time and place and mindset I wanted to be in to release those non-existent people from my life. At my request, it gave me strategies, mantras, visuals, advice, questions to challenge myself, etc. 

Some people believe that the AI bots will just give you what you want to hear, but based on my own experience, I don't think that's true. Perhaps it comes down to grounding it in the expert theologies and asking what Matthew Hussey would say about this, or if Ramani Durvasula would agree with my assessment of a situation, etc. When new ads for different approaches from different speakers popped up, I could ask it how it might apply to my situation, with all the context already plugged in, and decide if I wanted to pursue that topic/speaker or not. Whatever I did to prompt it, it challenged me in a lot of hard ways to do the work I now think I needed, and probably needed when I was in my 20s or early 30s at the latest. But gen AI didn't exist yet like this at those times, and I'm here now. I believe in the good technology can do. I guess, though, it really depends on you. You have to decide who you want to be, and the AI will probably reflect that. I was broken, or rather, I didn't know who I was, or if I was anyone at all. I hoped there was something there, and the AI bot helped me find her. So it's not technology versus us, it's who are we, with a little help from a bot. 

Go In Peace and Love: 2025 Reflections

I am delinquent to my usual annual review of my year. I'll blame it partially on the fact that I've caught up on making video montages for each year, and I spent much of my computer time towards the end of 2025 on creating my video, which is great. Also, I can partially blame it on a happy thought that I was just more excited to look forward and doing things, creating my story, rather than just documenting it. So I don't feel bad. Sorry, not sorry! That being said, I think there are a few really impactful things from 2025 which I would be remiss if I neglected to put into words before the memories and feelings fade completely. 

Resolutions for 2025

I set out at the start of 2025 to do some specific things which I pivoted away from, specifically around how to publish my book, and leveraging technology specifically for investing. I did publish a book, self-published rather than through a real publisher, and not the book I intended to publish - that one is still TBD - but a totally bizarre diversion from my usual writing. And it was fun! And it used technology in ways I hadn't imagined at the start of 2025. So while I didn't accomplish those specific things, I did my own thing, and isn't that really the point, anyways? 

What I did do which was aligned to my initial outlook for 2025 included dance. I performed two final performances with the Jubilee Dance Team before the group dissolved. I continued dancing socially and had probably my best Camp Hollywood yet, sharing it with a fellow engineering friend and feeling overcome by the sheer joy of the people there who are just there to dance. I know drama and political posturing exist in those groups, but I was largely immune to them, so all I saw was sheer joy for five days. And it occurred to me - shouldn't we always strive to have days like these? Even if not every day is joyful, finding days like those make the hard stuff worth it. What a revelation and privilege! 

I also set out to finish my family room and primary bathroom, and those I did and I love them. My bathroom, especially, is everything I dreamed it to be and gives me joy every day I get to wake up and use it and every night as I brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I am REALLY proud of my faux living wall made with craft supplies. It is the perfect proportion I was after, and it just feels right in that space. Home improvements, especially crazy ones, don't always work out so well, but the careful thought and planning and design iterations I toiled over paid off in this case, and that is amazing. As my friend Rachel said about it, "It's just so you!" And that's right. It's not for everyone, but it was never meant to be. It's my house, my castle, and my sanctuary. It may deteriorate my resale value, but I'm not selling right now, I'm living (here) right now. More of that, please! 

Life List #35 - Visit a concentration camp

From my Life List, I checked off one very important one to me: visiting a concentration camp. And I did it in the best way possible - with my sister, Christy, with whom we've shared book recommendations about the concentration camps and Jews during the Holocaust. The trip idea formulated out of my business trip to Milan, a city my sister strongly desired to visit. She decided to join me my last week there, and use my hotel room as a launch pad from which to explore Milan while I wrapped up my work there. Then, we considered going somewhere together - Greece, maybe, or back to Venice, a city we explored together for the first time years prior, with great memories. But when I suggested the more serious idea of going to Auschwitz, she was excited in whatever way is appropriate and not weird. I had heard that Krakow, Poland was a lovely city, but I just assumed that was something people said because what else do you say about the nearest major city to a place with such a devastating past as Auschwitz. I was wrong in all the best ways on that. 

It was a short flight from Milan to Krakow, but something changed when we arrived in Poland. Everything seemed happier, easier, safer, friendlier, better. Just better. I can enumerate ways but the parts don't seem to account for the whole, fluffy, happy feeling I had there. And I wasn't alone in that. Christy also seemed to love absolutely everything. We were so uncanningly happy in this town in which we didn't know the local language and barely understood the food. 

It started, I suppose, with the Uber ride to our hotel. The houses in the countryside were tall and boxy and somehow the most adorable houses I've ever seen. Like, I wanted to take a picture of every one of 1000 houses I suppose we passed. I would happily live in any one of those in a heartbeat. Turning into Krakow, a giant castle-like complex built of red brick greeted us. We later learned this was some utility company like a water works or something like that. What?!? 

I had booked the hotel with my excessive points, so it was free of cost to us, but they greeted us like VIPs maybe because of my status anyways. The woman who checked us in offered to make dinner reservations for us at the hotel's restaurant, and since we were sort of tired and unsure of going out on the town, we opted in. So after getting settled into the room, we prettied up a touch and headed downstairs. She escorted us into the restaurant and told the waiter to take special care of us. She even came back after we were seated to offer us a special Polish treat - she cautioned that half of Polish people love it and half don't care for it. My sister and I were also split right down the middle, I loved it and she didn't care for it, so I gladly enjoyed the half of hers she didn't eat. We ordered wine but the waiter offered us a complimentary shot of a special Polish liquor. We cheers'ed and gulped it down - it was pleasant but not our thing. The chef sent out a special small palate cleanser compliments of the house. Our appetizers and meals were all scrumptious and presumably authentically Polish. Who knew I liked Polish food so much? I certainly did not. After some equally delicious desserts and cocktails, we stumbled (from the food coma more than the alcohol) back into the elevator and passed out. 

Now, I will add that while my sister and I do have real empathy for the persecuted Jews of the Holocaust and are inspired by those stories of absolute resolutions to survive, so much so that we shared many of these stories between us, we also have a sometimes dark sense of humor. Comedic relief has been a way of coping with death and tragedy in our family, and making light of ugly situations is sort of what we do. So we knew we had to clean up our act out of respect while touring the camps, but boy did we let it loose before and after. 

The first thing I recall from our tour of Auschwitz-Birkenau was a constant feeling of having been here before. Not quite déjà vu, like I had lived this tour before, but more that everything made sense, I knew what to expect, it looked like I… remembered? It could be the effect of having seen pictures in various books, museums, video footage, internet articles, etc. I wanted to write it off as that. But the feeling was of such familiarity it was hard to write it off. It felt like I was remembering the images through the accounts I had read, as if I had lived those accounts myself, and now I was visiting the places I had visited before in my mind. That alone was a very moving and somehow comforting feeling - that the accounts were so accurate they felt like a memory to a first-time visitor, and all the more hope that such accounts will stand as evidence of the crimes that really happened and a hope that the human race will not go to such depths again. 

As a mere mortal, I think it is often hard for me, and probably most people, to comprehend large numbers. The individual accounts I had read over the years were painstakingly awful, but to imagine that those atrocities, or worse, since most didn't survive to tell their tales, to millions of people just can't be fathomed. If I read a thousand individual stories, that still would represent only a tiny fraction of the stories not learned. So I really appreciated some of the exhibits that attempted to show these magnitudes in ways we could come closer to comprehending. There were locks of hair that had been shaved off the prisoners upon arrival - most of which had been taken to factories for use in manufacturing - but even what remained was still an unbelievable amount. The shoes stripped of the prisoners, some plain and practical, others decorative and fashionable, all thrown together in a heap that still only represents a fraction, but imagining the pairs of legs belonging to people who boarded the trains and arrived to these horrors, the comprehension of the magnitude was more within reach. Then you turn the corner and witness a pile of kids' shoes - and that evokes a heightened emotion for so many reasons, as we continued to strive to comprehend. 

I also appreciated the visuals of the Cyklon B used to gas the Jews and other victims, and the models of the facilities, and the like. There was a scientific efficiency in the Nazi extermination efforts, and understanding the mechanics is a part of the equation to comprehending the horrors that occurred there, which the accounts tend not to know or detail.

At Birkenau, we had the opportunity to lay eyes on the buildings in which the prisoners were forced to attempt to sleep, many to a single bunk, and the bunks piled high and packed into the tightest of quarters. One could imagine the ease with which disease could spread in such conditions, the restlessness one might struggle with hearing the coughs, moans, cries and other human noises of so many people shoved together, and the utter exhaustion they must have felt to find some kind of comfort and solace in being in here, able to get off their feet and not be laboring, and maybe finding some warmth however slight. Much of it rendered me just speechless. 

Entering the gas chamber was downright unnerving. I knew I was safe, and yet… 

I don't ever want to do that again. I suppose most people don't. 

While the exhibits at Auschwitz helped me try to comprehend the magnitude of the human element, the vastness of Birkenau spoke of a killing machine that was still ramping up. I don't know what the Nazis would have accomplished had they not been stopped when they were, but it seemed like it could have been magnitudes worse than the already incomprehensible disaster it was. 

The end of our tour tied up with some reflections that these were fellow humans that did this to other humans, and that we need to remember so that we never repeat such atrocities. Capturing these quotes in photos and souvenirs was almost as important as visiting the place itself. 

As we headed back, we were mostly quiet, but I had to chuckle to myself at the playlist, which included, "I Want to Break Free," "Shotgun," "Rude," and "bad guy," as if the world was trying to lighten the mood with some comedic relief. Also, perhaps because I was too emotionally drained to care what people might think at that point, or maybe to fill my photo folder of something happier, I took a bunch of pictures of the adorable houses on our way back to the town. 

That afternoon, my sister had a few fun destinations she wanted to check out. We headed first to EL&N and had fun drinks and food there. Then we played around in the Be Happy Museum which was full of silly photo ops to be hilarious in. Around town, we found a Christmas store (we love that!) and heard a trumpeter play from the turret, which is just so right up my alley if you know my love of turrets and history of trumpet playing. We found ourselves double fisting drinks for some reason at whatever bar we landed at, and just genuinely enjoyed every moment of our short stay in Krakow. By the end of the day, we were devising how we could move to Poland. I've never loved a city so much in a country I knew so little about. 

Life List #33 - See the brilliance of the Milky Way

I revised my Life List at the beginning of 2025, and one of the newly added items was my pursuit of seeing the Milky Way in all its glory - as it had eluded me several times while visiting dark sky parks known for their glorious views of the night skies. Perhaps adding it to my Life List helped to make it happen, or perhaps my doubling down on my pursuit because I added it to my list is what did it. Either way, I was overjoyed to take in the views at the top of two different mountains in Hawaii, capturing beautiful photos and finally feeling satisfied by the view with the naked eye -twice. I wrote about that adventure here.

Other Life List-worthy Mentions

In addition to checking off two new things from my Life List, I doubled down on a few others. Self-publishing my book about Astoria was a second hit on #15 to Publish a book. I also had the opportunity to see a proper opera at the Syndey Opera House (my Life List called for seeing a "show" which I had done years before, planning the trip around a Postmodern Jukebox concert), to improve upon my #132. A trip to Hawaii is hardly complete without a luau, so I did #75 for a fourth time in 2025. 

As the Winter Olympics kicked off yesterday with the focal point in San Siro Stadium, seeing the stadium and the sites reminded me of how cool my time in Milan was. It feels like a decade ago, but it was just March that I spent a full month in Italy for work, during which my employee and I got to catch a soccer match at that same stadium. I had also toured the Duomo in December 2024, which featured heavily in the Olympics introduction as it is such an icon of Milan. I had visited Lake Como on both trips, but in 2025, my employee and I went to the spot where a Star Wars scene took place - the one in which Padme marries what's his face. It was beautiful! 

While I love taking pictures to help capture the amazing memories, sometimes the picture is missed, or is insufficient, so the moment needs to be remembered in other ways. After working in Australia for two weeks, Sam and I spent a few days back in Tasmania - a place even Australians rarely go once in their lifetimes, and this was our second time there. A moment I wasn't quick enough to capture in photographic proof was when a kookaburra perched on the railing of our house's deck. It was right there! And if you don't know what a kookaburra is, go google it real quick because they are the coolest looking bird in the world! They make a hilarious sound, like a monkey laughing, which we heard throughout the weekend there, but that was the only one we actually saw. What we did see a lot of were pademelons, a type of animal only found in Tasmania and of which we were not familiar previously. There were pademelons and wallabies all over the property of the house we rented. Unfortunately, they only came out at dark, so when we turned off all the lights in the house and stood on the deck long enough for our eyes to adjust, we could make out the shapes and the jumping motions, but the camera was rendered useless in capturing the sight. 

Honorable Mentions 

What else did I do in 2025? Gosh, it was really a full year, looking back. I started the year in Australia, so literally day 1 found Sam and I traveling from Hobart to Sydney, where I settled into the most amazing room at the W overlooking Darling Harbour, with its Saturday night fireworks. I went to the local Lego store which happened to be the world's largest Lego store, how I didn't realize that earlier is beyond me. Sam and I saw Hamilton in Sydney which gave me a unique perspective - actually there is a different caliber from what I was used to on Broadway compared to the Sydney show. Back home in Texas, I saw other musicals, including & Juliet, Mamma Mia, Waitress, The Outsiders, Beauty and the Beast. I went to the Fort Worth Zoo and also the Dallas Zoo for both daytime animal viewing and holiday Zoo Lights, and toured the fun (but very cold) ice sculptures based on the Elf movie at the Gaylord Resort in Grapevine. 

My sister in Tucson continued recovering from her medical issues, and it was great going out to visit and spend time with the family. 

Sam and I tried Pickleball at my local park, which was neat - until his strong man strength broke the cheap racket I had bought him. 

My parents visited for a mercifully short stay and we got to visit with my aunt and uncle just a couple hours south - well-timed, too, because my uncle passed just a few months later. When I learned the news, I put together a little video montage using some old footage of him and my Dad from their childhoods, and then added pictures from their young adult lives and more recent memories. I put it to the music of a male-sung cover of the "For Good" song from Wicked. I was really proud of that montage, and when I sent it to my Dad, he said it helped him finally to cry, which made me happy to be able to have helped him process his brother's death. 

I reconnected with my old MBA friend, Rachel, who lives in Waco. Talking at length with really smart people is so inspiring to me, I need to remember to do more of that.

I visited my sister in Raleigh, and we did a fun hike and went to a piano bar for tipsy hilarity. At App State, I got to do a shot with my nephew and his roommates, and take him and his girlfriend to the football game. 

My former dance instructor from Arizona came out to Texas for work and we got to catch up and go to a dance on two separate occasions. 

I finished the year in Tucson for an extended stay with my family. The kids surprised me with a trip to the observatory which was a great highlight. While wrapping up with a lunch picnic, one of the volunteer docents sat with us and in our conversation, he commented that I'd "make a really good docent," which reminded me of the joy I got from being a docent at the Poppy Reserve in California, and made me consider looking into something similar in Texas, even if it is Texas. 

I pursued my dream of owning land in Florida, carving out a fun extended weekend for myself there, falling in love with one particular property, and buying it. 

While working in Georgia, I got to see some F-22 and F-35 flybys and an F-22 launch, and I attempted to go swing dancing only to discover it was a West coast place, and tried it anyway. 

I also got to swing dance in Sydney when I went back for work, which was so much fun! 

While working in Australia, we had lunch right by the runway one day and got to watch the F-35s do touch-and-go's. 


All in all, I had a busy work travel schedule in between which (or sometimes extending and amending off those trips) I managed to take some really amazing vacations, do a ton of dancing, nerd out on airplanes, make some happy spaces in my house, and most importantly, spend time with friends and family I love. One of the most interesting parts of the Blue Zone theories and the Outlive book and the futuristic views being presented is that in all things, the importance of relationships of all kinds is pivotal, key to survivability and longevity and happiness, and only growing in importance. So this has been a focus of mine to reach out more, connect more, and appreciate more. And when I looked back at 2025, even though the romantic relationship I hoped would be my forever one didn't work out, I feel so blessed to have lived with intention, joy, and connection throughout. 

Go in peace and love. 

This Moment Isn't That Special

Picture generated by AI based on the text of this post.

I'm a self-proclaimed optimistic futurist. While I've been adopted a wait-and-see or give-it-more-time approach to certain technologies, I've also been an early adopter of those technologies I see as most promising. At work, I am a problem solver and lead a team of problem solvers. In my personal life, I strive for a more perfect, automated, easy, comfortable life. I read a lot, I write a lot, I think a lot. A lot of what I study, think and write about is the future - technology, economics, culture, systems, everything that we humans can control and mold towards a more perfect protopian future. 

So it's no surprise the algorithms recommended to me a show about the future, and I obligingly watched it. Underwhelming is an understatement. But more than that, I had a visceral reaction to some of the claims made. Now, granted, this wasn't an expert account from a fellow futurist. It was hosted and organized by a futurist, but the interviews were with various groups of people operating at various levels of exceptionalism, including absolute normalcy. 

Many of the claims from the interviewees that bothered me the most was the repeated notion that we're presently at an inflection point - in technology, environment and political concerns, yes, but more so - in our actual humanity. The fear that AI will take our jobs and modes of artistic creation such that it robs us of our ability to perceive and create, and that we therefore need to decide what the minimal viable requirements are to call ourselves human, and defend those things, was a few steps too far for me. 

Rather than being compelled by these empowered individuals seeing an opportunity to seize this turning point and make the world a better place, I actually started considering that people in the 1970's probably thought the same thing, and people in the 1930's, and people during the Renaissance, and how many other times in our human history? 

See, fears about technology replacing humans has been around for decades or centuries. Is this time different? Sure, there are arguments for that. But different, how? We're already seeing a backlash against generative AI not delivering the promises of complete automation and replacement of people, and the ROI is in question across the board. It has great potential, to be sure, but we've also identified very early on its tendency to hallucinate and provide complete inaccurate information with great confidence. It's flaws and faults were seen before anyone even noticed it wasn't delivering those promises of employee displacement. So why in the world did we even let those fears build up, and why are we surprised now about the fall of the hype? 

The political unrest is a lot. But is it more than we've seen before? What were those hippies protesting anyways? 

Violence is actually down in many areas. 

Mental health awareness has grown in leaps and bounds. 

The last two thoughts may actually be connected. How cool is that? 

But no, I am struck by actually had ordinary this time is. So why do so many people think we are at a turning point? Is it empowering to this "now is our moment?" If so, if that's what you need to feel compelled to act in a way that will positively improve the future, then go ahead and think that. But will you be disappointed when it turns out it was just another year in another decade with another technology that was interesting? 

Sometimes when I tell people I'm an optimist, they respond that they'd rather be realists. I mean, I get it. I'm not blind to the problems, nor do I want to ignore them. I like to believe I am centered in realism, but with an optimistic direction, rather than a doomsday view of the world. But when I heard these proclamations that now is the time to change the direction of humanity, I felt like those pessimists parading as realists. 

Rather than thinking it's now or never, I believe we wake up every day with the potential of what that day could bring, what we could accomplish. I used to wake up long before dawn and go running or walking in the dark. There's a conspiratory feeling that would wash over me that I'm up before everyone else and therefore I got a head start on them today. I don't walk or run outside currently because I hate Texas, so I don't get this feeling as frequently right now. But I still hold the potential of each day we get in high regard. And a year from now, five years from now, two decades from now, I hope I will still wake up every day with a day of potential ahead of me.