I initially posted this on Facebook on the last day of 2015. I’d woken up that morning thinking – convinced, really – that New Year’s Eve was the next day. I’d been feeling an unusual ambivalence about looking back over the year that was and looking forward to what could be. Faced with the reality that the year was ending much sooner than I expected, I regretted my lack of reflection. 2015 wasn’t going to end twice. Act now or miss the deadline. I decided to answer one question:

What was 2015 to me?

It was the year:

My father died.
My book proposal got finished. And rejected.
My nephew loved me through both of those things.
We founded The Mill
My best friend’s became parents.
I stopped consulting.
I texted with Desiree and Ericka every day.
I bottle fed kittens.
We graduated 10 teams.
I tried to be more grateful.
I commuted 300 miles to work and slept on a twin bed in a closet.
I didn’t Skype with Michael Bungay Stanier nearly often enough but every time I did, it was awesome.
I celebrated the incredible professional accomplishments of a dear friend.
I rejoiced at the news that Madeleine was going to be a big sister.
I revised the first half of my book. And got rejected.
I watched way too much TV.
I fell in love with Jax Teller and The White Buffalo.
I didn’t read enough books.
I spent most Friday afternoons playing with kids I love.
I discovered the joy of coloring
I knitted but not nearly often enough.
I tackled some of the messy things I’d been avoiding.
I made a lot of coffee and didn’t drink a single cup of it.
I deepened some relationships and didn’t work hard enough on others.
I didn’t eat flour, sugar or dairy but I drank too much and ate way too many bags of salt and vinegar potato chips.
I sent too many emails and too few handwritten notes.
We graduated 9 more teams.
I preached a sermon.
I found all 50 license plates
I made it through financially, kind of.
I started writing again. Slowly. Maybe.
I went to the ocean 23 times and to the desert 25 times.
I woke up thinking there was one more day in 2015. I was wrong.

I can’t declare 2015 as one way or the other. It was full of life in all the ways that life happens. It was a year full of pride and disappointment, a year full of joy and hurt, and in all of the living, it was always full of love. For that and for the people who lived it with me and loved me through it, thank you. Let’s do it again next year.

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