New Year, New Me?

2025 is the year of my 40th birthday, which I regard as approximately the halfway point of life. I’ve heard the optimistic types tell me that no, it’s not midlife! One should expect to live much longer than 80. To that I say, one should expect nothing, but a little hope is probably fine. Look at the median age in America: it’s right around 80, though it depends on a lot of factors. And the odds of maladies increase exponentially in the later years. I measure life by healthspan, not lifespan.

I’ve never been into resolutions and haven’t made any for 2025, though there are a few new habits I’d like to set (I consider it prioritizing, not goal setting):

• Creativity over profit. The problem with chasing “enough” money is that “enough” is a bottomless pit that can never be filled. It’s the closest thing to a vampire in the world today. It thirsts for blood, but each victim only temporarily satiates. I’d like to switch my view of money to a means of survival, not a means to meaning (not that I ever saw money as everything, but I do believe I let it dictate too many decisions the past few years).

• Sleep over screens.

• Self-belief over fear.

• Idle deep thought over task-oriented mindlessness.

• Newness over routine.

I’m sure there are other priorities I’d benefit in setting, but these are the first that come to mind.

A snowstorm is due in two days. The gaunt clouds overhead strangle the sun and paint the world in grays.

I went for a morning run that left my throat dry and ears numb. I finished the run feeling better. It’s a reminder that discomfort is refreshing.

Tonight I’ll buy some trailrunners so that I can hopefully run on snow next week.

The last film of 2024 I watched was Nosferatu. Hence the vampire metaphor. Beautiful cinematography, excellent acting, creepy narrative.

So long 2024… 40 is knockin’ on the door.

2024: A Hopeful Step Back

Sometimes you have to take a step backward to move forward. I have a pervading sense that backtracking will be a theme for me in 2024. I’ve realized, through trial and error, that I want to revert certain aspects of my life.

The first change surrounds my cycling. I tested the waters of fitness cycling for a few years and have decided to go back to my bike commuter roots. Broken bones are not the primary reason for this. I find the most joy in keeping cycling simple: just hopping on a commuter bike and riding around a park, or on a short trip to the grocery store. I envision my future and cannot see myself embracing cycling as a sport: it just seems like an added stressor, and cycling is supposed to be my stress relief. So, I’m selling my endurance bike and a lot of my cycling apparel.

I often find the most joy in life when I keep everything simplified. Cycling for me is a prime example of this. I want cycling to be an adventure, not a chore. I want it to be organic and raw, not an exercise monitored by GPS watches and power meters. I want to breathe fresh air and have the world slow down, not obsess myself over the desire to speed up. I generally hate “intervals,” so why am I pigeoning myself into more of them during a hobby?

I want to rid myself of the Protestant work ethic while on a bike.

I’m also ditching the Kindle in favor of more physical books. I read far too much via blue screen. There was a time in my life when I only read text on paper. Electronic reading is a strain on the eyes. Sometimes I wonder if our screens will render all of us prematurely blind.

I’m aiming to write more reviews. Years ago I enjoyed providing reviews of various elements of pop culture and I’d like to return to the habit. Some of my favorite authors, including Edgar Allen Poe and George Orwell, were also prolific reviewers.

Finally, I’m prioritizing my own dreams. Over the years I’ve let them slip too much for the sake of money and as I look up the capitalist heirarchical ladder, I don’t see more money solving any problems. In fact, I see more money creating new problems.

When I die, I don’t foresee anyone reading a eulogy about how much money I made or how productive I was as an employee. That would be terrible as part of anyone’s eulogy, and the thought of that having anything to do with my character is nauseating.

What would I want to be said at my funeral? I think everyone must ask himself or herself this question at some point and come to terms with the finiteness of life. I think for me, the answers are starting to be more apparent, and they have nothing to do with materialism.

So here’s to 2024, a step back for the sake of forward movement.