2024 Was Quite a Year, Wasn’t it?
It seems not long ago that I was a carefree little boy, summers stretching endlessly before me spread out in the backyard of my childhood home in Pittsburgh. Today, the years and decades seem to blur together, those endless hours compressed like a squished concertina or accordion.
This feeling of time compression and accelerating as we age has been especially poignant as I reflect on this past year of writing. Chronological time doesn’t change but feels different as we get closer to that unknown finish line of life. I’m lucky to have my own house now with a big backyard where I have been privileged to watch our dogs frolic and many seasons change. I’ve picked summer berries on my hillside garden and witnessed a few old trees meet their snow-covered ends in winter. I look forward to spring each year and feel a twinge of sorrow as leaves turn colors and lose their grip, allowing gravity to finish the job. Just as seasons change, so too has my understanding of time—and writing has become my way of marking its passage.
The past year has zipped by and has been a whirlwind of words. I’ve poured my soul into every written piece, like wringing out a well-used washcloth, (or “worshcloth” in Pittsburghese) each a testament to the power of consistent and intentional weekly writing. It’s been a journey of self-discovery, both an intellectual and therapeutic exercise that has allowed me to process my experiences and share them with you. Writing has been rewriting and rewriting. Over and over.
As a psychotherapist, I've long known that the act of writing is indeed a form of therapy —a way to organize thoughts, confront fears, and find meaning in the chaos. While some emphasize the virtues of handwriting, using digital tools like my iPad and phone has been essential for my neurodivergent creative process, allowing me to produce real work that feels both personal and universal.
While I don’t particularly find great pleasure in the acts of reading and writing, as better writers than me have said, I enjoy having written. And I've learned that what works for one writer might not work for another. The key is to find a process that works for you.
One of the most rewarding aspects of this year has been the opportunity to connect with you, my readers. Your comments and messages have been a validating source of inspiration and encouragement. It’s humbling to know that my words have resonated with so many. I love hearing from your rich and distinctive personalities. Occasionally, it’s also humbling to hear crickets. I'm a pretty vanilla kind of guy, mostly, but I marvel at all the different flavors out there in the world. It's been good to try new things, as my mother suggested. There’s a dark streak rippling through me too. That keeps me… interesting. And human.
Reflecting on 2024, I'm struck by the transformative power of consistent weekly writing. It has not only helped me grow as a writer but also as a person, allowing me to embrace vulnerability, be honest about my struggles, and find strength in my imperfections. As my first therapist used to say decades ago: If it's worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.
I don’t know about my writing's quality, but I've learned the importance of working within my limits by taking breaks and utilizing assistive technologies (LLMs, hearing aids, digital keyboards). They allow me to balance productivity with long periods of rest. Like many, I still experience imposter syndrome, knowing my writing won't appeal to everyone, and that’s okay. There’s always more to learn.
One of the most fulfilling projects of the year has been writing a version of my personal story called Secrets from My Twilight Zone. These 15 episodes have allowed me to delve deep into my personal history and share my experiences with readers. Secrets truly has been cathartic. Each episode has been a step towards deeper self-understanding and healing.
In nearly real-time, (within hours) I discovered and shared the identity of my maternal grandfather— my mother’s biological father whom she never knew in life, among other mysterious family secrets like my own paternity. Solving real mysteries is intellectually and emotionally satisfying. Readers have shared how their own experiences resonate with my stories, and how the series has helped them feel less alone, especially family historians and genealogists. The response has been incredibly meaningful, reinforcing the power of sharing one's story and connecting with others who resonate with these experiences. I'm excited to continue exploring the themes and characters from Secrets from My Twilight Zone, and more. While uncovering truths has been a defining part of my 2024 journey, they have also revealed a path forward for my writing and therapeutic work.
Looking ahead, I’m eager to continue writing from my experience as a psychotherapist and sharing my perspective. I hope to delve deeper into the themes that have intrigued and resonated with readers and explore new avenues for your personal growth and development as well as my own. I’m also looking forward to connecting with others and supporting our Substack community.
As we close 2024, I want to thank
and each of you for your support and encouragement. I consider you respected peers. Your feedback has been the nourishing sunlight to my writing garden, helping it to bear sweet fruits, and to grow in ways I never imagined. Here’s to a healthy, creative, and fulfilling 2025—for all of us. Let’s continue exploring stories, embracing vulnerability, and finding our truths in what we write. What has been your most transformative moment of 2024? I’d love to hear your stories. Happy New Year!Thank You!
Beautifully written. I agree with much of what you wrote, not that you need validation from me. Thanks for sharing this.
I feel like I can relate with most of your reflections. I look forward to reading more of your writing in 2025. Happy New Year!