2025

“”Here’s hoping that 2025 is still full of wonder but accompanied by much less stress and fewer crazy logistics.”

That was the last line of my 2024 summary post. It’s been 18 months since I wrote that – or anything at all – and I’m still not sure I can bring myself to write about 2025. I did try to capture the full scope in my annual NYE journal but, I’m honestly not sure it’s fit for public consumption. Sufficed to say, it was the worst year of our lives that managed to surpass even the cloud of grief we lived in during 2021.

But I can’t just move on without at least acknowledging the void. So the best I can do is list the myriad of emotions we suffered to offer a glimpse into why travel life (and honestly life in general) ground to a standstill.

Shock. Despair. Heartbreak. Overwhelm. Fury. Stress. Failure. Rage. Anxiety. Disbelief. Misery. Isolation. Wrath. Anguish. Tension. Hopelessness. Betrayal. Trauma.

The year made sure to hit all the low points, so much that we began to question a personal cosmic vendetta towards the end. Of course, amid all of this there was beauty and foundation and forward movement, but we could scarcely feel it at the time. Russell and I were drowning – both separately and together – for the first time. Often we could only manage to put one foot in front of the other.

We buried the year with a liquid wake on December 31st: one drink to commemorate and banish each quarter we (barely) survived together.

Maybe someday I can post a visual recap of the good parts, captured through the silver lining my photos – my constant reminder to gather and ruminate on the good.