In honor of my belief that late is better than never, I am sharing this public version of my annual reflection in letter format, albeit 67 days into the year. This is a long post, so listen to it online for the best experience. Enjoy :)
Dear Zesty 2024,
I wrote a letter last year to 2023, and here we are again. Another lap around the sun, another chapter filled, another set of lessons added to my life’s ever-expanding syllabus. This time, with more experiences on my life resume and maybe a bit more confident.
TL;DR:
In chronological order: Designed a triathlon. Self-published an Amazon best-selling book. Said goodbye to Hawaii after three years as my home. Moved across the world (again). Became an English teacher and learned a lot. Followed my energy living with zest, devotion, and abundance. Grew a lot, laughed a lot, and cried the most.
I'm still figuring things out, realizing more and more that life is a provisional dance—more freestyle than choreographed.
Oh, you’re still here? Well then, let’s break 2024 down—first by intentions, then by seasons, and some FAQs at the end. Enjoy :)
A Summary of My Intentions
Since 2019, I’ve set yearly intentions, steering my life like a sailboat. This year, the compass pointed toward zest, devotion, and abundance.
ZEST 🍋
Energy and great enthusiasm.
Why this word?
Zest is about following my energy and excitement, even without knowing the outcome. I wanted to inspire my future self through my actions and build trust in my instincts.
Outcome:
Living with zest was the best decision I made. It led to fun with friends, making new ones abroad, playing games with Thai teenagers in a classroom, waking up at 5 AM to swim, bike, and run, seeking out connections with like-minded creatives, and pursuing my first self-published book. Zest guided me away from comfort toward expansion and exploration.
DEVOTION 🙌
Pouring love, loyalty, or enthusiasm into what truly matters.
Why this word?
Devotion embodies trust in my actions. It meant grounding myself in commitments rather than scattering my focus. I wanted clarity in my choices and to avoid a constant state of frazzlement.
Outcome:
At first, I thought devotion meant committing to staying in Hawaii to deepen my roots. But I learned devotion isn’t about place—it’s about honesty. I recognized that my life in Hawaii wasn’t sustainable and that transparency is essential in a healthy community. Devotion meant finishing my book, even on days I doubted its worth. It meant saying “no” to fun pursuits and embracing the urgency of my departure as motivation to express my deepest gratitude before leaving.
After moving abroad, devotion evolved to embracing my values—trusting curiosity over certainty while wearing black ‘polite’ school shoes, drinking caffeine, and crafting lesson plans. It was honoring novelty while staying present in the learning curve of starting over as a school teacher in Thailand.
ABUNDANCE ✨
An overflowing fullness.
Why this word?
Abundance means to move away from a life of fear or scarcity thinking. I want to accept my life’s richness while recognizing where I could grow.
Outcome:
On the surface, I failed at abundance. My finances were in the red. Moving from paying $47 a night for a roof over my head to 0 baht in a boarding school helped, but abundance showed up in other ways. Eight months in Hawaii meant deep connections, community, and nature—a ten-minute walk from the ocean and daily run-ins with people I adore. My creative spirit was fully alive, writing each day. Celebrating friendships and receiving immense love at my “A hui hou” farewell celebration reminded me that true abundance is found in presence and generosity.
🔂 The overview of my year
January & February
Backflipped into the year with a Big Island trip. Jumped off a 50-foot cliff (eventually). Played volleyball with Mobes 15 years after we were undefeated together in 8th grade. Inspired her to quit social media (except Strava). Vacationed in Kauai with my parents and brother. Surfed into a coral reef and black sea urchin spikes stuck out of my hand. Job got eliminated. Roommate bought me sweet treats to mourn. Found a surfboard on the street. Started freelancing with last client. Celebrated Mardi Gras and baked a King’s cake. Won a biathlon. Surfed next to a 12-foot tiger shark on Valentine’s Day. Turned 28. Read my poem at my birthday beach party. Biked 28 miles, jammed my bike chain, got rescued. Donated a foot of hair for the first time. Started therapy again. Hired a friend as my transition coach. Ended February by running the longest distance of my life (12.5 mi) while deep in conversation with a new friend.
March, April & May
Rejoined Twitter seeking work opportunities. Attended Hawaii Career Expo (no luck). Started The Artist’s Way (again). Played music with friends. Sailed often. Wrote letters every morning. Danced every afternoon to this playlist. Had the most fun date at D&B. Took a course on my nervous system from Jonny Miller. Learned coregulation and NSDR is a thing. Freely danced at Hannah’s beach party. Played eight hours in a St. Patrick’s Day volleyball tournament and got sunburnt. Took one of my favorite photos lost on a hike. Designed a triathlon. Hosted my first (and only) reading party. Mailed some postcards. Taught my friend how to drive a moped. Painted my nails red and danced to Flowers by Miley Cyrus. Went off the grid for a think weekend. Peed through my bathing suit, laughing with my sister at scurrying black crabs. Backpacked on the Big Island in silence for my third Zen Sesshin. My down dog sandy imprints were mistaken for a sea turtle laying eggs. Was reminded of how beautiful everything in life is.
June, July, & August
Witnessed someone get airlifted. Swam in the ocean daily. Did at least one push up everyday and completed twenty by month’s end. Joined Kelly Wilde Miller’s writing challenge. Read my poetry aloud at the Surf Poet Society. Drew a life mind-map: Stay in Hawaii, Move to Asia, Move to Europe—Thailand won. Sold nearly everything. Completed my 150-hour TEFL certification. Finished a seven-mile open water swim series, rolling onto the shore at Pipeline with boogers and exhaustion. Hosted two pool party BBQs. Ate purple taro mashed potatoes and camped under the stars with my childhood best friend for the fourth of July. Visited Molokai. Played the Irish fiddle and learned about airships. Watched a coconut open with my Hydroflask. Facilitated my first Zoom letter-writing workshop. Walked 31 miles in 12 hours. Lost toenails backpacking to Kalalau in Kauai. Attended a goodbye “A hui hou” brunch with matcha lattes and love letter writing. Recited my love letter to Hawaii. Published this handwritten note about my heartbreak from leaving Hawaii. Climbed up my desktop background, Mount Rainier, with Allison. Attended my cousin’s wedding in Chicago, family members cringing at my oozing toes.
September & October
Missed my brother’s 100-mile race because my immune system tapped out. Met his fat cat Bubba. Layed sick as a dog in bed for a week watching movies. Purchased my first pair of non-youth-sized K-Swiss sneakers. Sang “Hail to the Victors” in the Big House. Walked the doodles with my family. Restarted my grace practice before dinner. Started journaling minimalistically on my Supernote. Attended Tiago Forté’s Second Brain Summit in LA. Met Internet friends in real life. Raised my hand and gave a spontaneous speech on journaling. Won a EEG brainscan and learned I see life through metaphors. Attended a joyous curiosity meet-up with Anne-Laure Le Cunff. Drove through Topanga Canyon while listening to Topanga Canyon. Drank the best matcha lavender latte of my life. Hung out in Barnes & Noble. Ate In N’ Out and got sick. Went to the cinema alone. Thrifted. Devoured Indian food and pastries with my best friend in San Francisco. Felt like a scene out of the Twilight saga hiking Rattlesnake ridge outside Seattle. Ate the most delish grilled cheese made with love by Allison. Book went live on Amazon the day I landed in Thailand. Was shook. Immediately made zesty new friends. Made papaya salad. Taught my first class on Halloween while wearing a purple witch’s hat.
November & December
Signed a six-month motorbike contract. Head deep in culture shock with a rocky transition to lifestyle shifts. Experienced Yi Peng Lantern Festival—felt like a scene from Tangled. Petted elephants and bonded over a mutual love of bananas. Spent Christmas away from Michigan for the first time but unwrapped gifts over Facetime. Realized in Pai that creativity and play need to be at the forefront of my teaching.
~~~
2024, you were a test of trust. You asked me to leap before I saw the net. You threw me into deep waters and reminded me I knew how to swim. You nudged me to embrace the messiness of transition, to listen to my gut, and to write the story even when I didn’t know the ending. You were filled with lessons in surrender, in trusting my choices even when the outcome was unclear, and in finding the joy in uncertainty.
2025, I welcome you with open arms—ready to be surprised, stretched, and softened in all the ways I don’t yet know.
Cheers to the next adventure!
With gratitude and anticipation. Too da loo, ✌️
Jen
PS - if you forgot what we were up to in the past, here’s some other reflections from 100 things 2023, goodbye 2022 & hello 2023, five events in 2022, 2021, and 2020
~~~
⁉️Frequently Asked Questions
Why did I leave Hawaii if I was so happy?
It was a concoction of reasons.
At the end of May, when my roommate told me she was moving abroad to become an English teacher, it was a bull’s eye. I had a coach helping me find more purposeful work. I defined the criteria for my next work experiment in an exercise: at least a six-month-long contract, collaborating with others in person and in education. Teaching, ding ding ding!
Similar to my moving away from Michigan and Chicago, I felt ready for my next growth spurt. In Hawaii, my interests about life stalled in ways I couldn’t quite explain. I was met with contentment and sought more. No matter how deep my community ties ran, I still lived on an island—cut off from much of the world and paying $8 for oat milk. I craved connection, accessibility, and a place where movement felt limitless.
So, instead of finding a new place to live on the island, I realized this was my invitation to make a bigger change. After three years in a cozy treehouse, I’ll forever miss all the adventuresome laughable polaroids on the wall, the cozy, quiet morning egg bagel, and game-filled tea nights with the vibe lights. It was truly a dream to live the way I did, waking up with the sun with a tea banana stroll to the community garden and walking ten minutes to the ocean to watch the sunset each night. The news from my roommate was the nudge I needed to inspire the next iterations in how I create my life.
Why Thailand?
It was a mix of randomness and zest. The teaching program had placements in Spain and Ireland, but I wanted to go somewhere entirely new. Eastern rather than more Western ways of living. Thailand had green flags: safety, smiles, affordability, Buddhism, elephants. The orange flags? Language barriers and spice levels. I wanted a slower travel experience and a built-in community, so teaching in Chiang Rai made sense.
I’m not a checklist traveler. I want to read the great book of the world, not skim it. Thailand gave me the chance to immerse, not just pass through.
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