5 Lessons & Realizations from 2025

As I head into a new year and new decade of life, I want to hold myself accountable to my growth by doubling down on what's working and cutting what's not.

In the last few days I reviewed my journals, planners, and notes for the year, pulling out recurring themes and moments of insight. What emerged were five lessons that shaped me in 2025.

Enjoy, and happy new year.

1 - Don't be afraid to get it wrong

At the end of 2024, I'd set "agency" as my core value for the year ahead. I wanted to make better decisions, quicker, without relying so much on the input of others.

This year more than ever, I was looked to for answers. Difficult decisions at work, creative direction in projects, logistical execution in my band; all of it happened on my watch. And even with agency in mind, I found myself being indecisive.

I read a book that helped me see what was standing in the way: fear.

I was afraid of loss, blame, and regret. So I would stall. I'd tell my gut to hush and secretly hope someone else would make the call.

The breakthrough came when I understood that so long as I continue to make decisions based on good intentions, information, and my own intuition, I shouldn’t stress the outcome. 

The result is not entirely up to me, there’s a lot of luck involved. So long as I can point to why I decided to go in a given direction, I should give myself carte blanche to get it wrong.

2 - Lead by example. Don't expect followers

A quarter of the way through the year, a friend helped me see an ugly blind spot: I can be judgmental.

It was embarrassing.

I needed to understand what being judgmental actually is: setting my values, habits, and beliefs as a universal rule for all to follow, then casting blame when they don't.

What a waste of energy.

Even when it comes from a good place, it's not my job to police anyone. No adult is going to change because I tell them to. I need to live out my own values and not expect anyone to follow along.

I should meet people where they are, as they meet me where I'm at.

Any positive influence I may have on someone should be a welcomed surprise, not an expectation. 

3 - There are no failures, only experiments

By summer, I'd caught a case of the existential blues leading up to my fortieth birthday.

I had compared myself to a friend who'd built a successful career by marrying his different interests and skills, and it made me feel less-than. My mind ran wild, creating infinite scenarios of why I would never get to where I want to be.

For months I felt unfulfilled and undeserving.

I berated myself about the countless things I've started then abandoned: businesses, songs on the guitar, ideas; all things that didn't turn out favorably and I gave up on.

Then I saw a talk that helped me shift this thinking.

It taught me that honoring my curiosities with small experiments is exactly what I should be doing. It's not a bug, it's a feature in finding one's path. Varied interests aren't obstacles, they pave the way.

Seen this way, there are no failures, only information.

4 - Be more curious than certain

I also uncovered that holding beliefs too tightly prevents growth.

There are things about myself and about the world that I was grasping onto for the sense of security that comes from being sure, for the validation that comes from appearing certain.

The remedy is to be more curious.

I see it in my five-year-old niece. The level at which she learns is tied to how curious she is. She's constantly asking why, constantly admitting she has no answers. Yet when I fly home and see her every few months, she seems to know at least twice as much as she did before.

If I'm committed to learning, why shouldn't I act the same way?

5 - Practice risk

My last big realization came just last week as I was driving to the beach from my parents' apartment in Santo Domingo.

I'd been noticing how every time I visit, it's hard to get them to try anything new or sudden. They'll make a face at the suggestion of a new restaurant, a different brand of coffee, let alone an improvised trip to the beach.

They like the safety of previous choices.

On that solo drive to the ocean (they declined the invitation), I was pondering how much of that fear of the unknown I also carry. It's more than I care to admit. As I pulled into a parking area, I had a moment of insight:

Because I am risk-averse, I need to practice risk-taking.

Taking risks doesn't have to be all or nothing; that could be reckless. I can practice small. I grabbed a table and chair to jot this all down before hitting the water.

On my way back that afternoon, I took a different highway than the one I came on.