2024: What I Learned This Year

An attempt at turning experiences into 'wisdom' 😉

You know what they say. We don’t learn from experiences; we learn from reflecting on those experiences.

Last year, I shared my key takeaways here to help me remember what I learned and connect with you through common experiences. I’m thinking I’ll start an annual tradition now and keep going. 😊

And if you feel like sharing yours, please do so! I’d love to hear them in the comments section below.

Photo by Copper and Wild on Unsplash

Four lessons 2024 gifted me:

1. You can actually stop complaining.

Have you ever thought about how much of your day is spent complaining? I used to complain a lot, complete with expletives. Effing this, effing that. Lots of hand movements. Very emotive.

I started studying Stoicism a few years ago, and it nudged me toward complaining less. Something about that Latin phrase Memento Mori (“Remember you will die”) flipped a switch in my brain. Like, why would I want to waste my limited energy on whining?

Then, back in March, I discovered Will Bowen’s book, A Complaint-Free World, and his 21-day challenge: break the habit of complaining by going 21 consecutive days without uttering a single gripe. And crazy me thought, Sure, why not?

It took me four months to finish the challenge. Four months! But along the way, I learned a lot about myself. Most importantly, I learned I can stop complaining — and surprise, surprise — I actually like myself better when I don’t.

It takes some mental work to avoid complaining, but I think it’s well worth it. I’ve been able to hold back my reaction to frustrating situations long enough to focus on solutions instead of gripes. Or when a complaint feels unavoidable, I work on the kind of feedback that can lead to change. And when all else fails, I give myself a time limit — letting the complaints have their moment before drawing a hard stop so they don’t spiral.

The result? A calmer, happier version of me. I like this version much better.

2. The jar can only fit so many rocks.

I’ve always preferred a full plate and proudly wore the “I’m so busy” badge of honor for decades.

But something happened early this year. I started to feel anxious about how my days (aka my life!) were speeding past me and how I wasn’t even enjoying the things I’d chosen to do. The idea that I needed to slow down came into sharp focus, and for weeks, I obsessed over it. (Cal Newport’s voice was in my ears a lot during this time!)

Then I revisited the story of the rocks, pebbles, and sand in a jar, and everything clicked. I realized two things:

(a) I had started treating everything as a “big rock” — which obviously isn’t true.
(b) My jar isn’t some bottomless bucket. It’s actually quite small for all the big rocks I was trying to cram in.

In the latter part of the year, I began reprioritizing. I moved some things to the back burner and reminded myself that not everything has to happen now. Some things can wait.

As Celeste Headlee wisely puts it in Do Nothing: “Some things have to go fast, but not everything does.”

3. The best goals are action-based, not outcome-oriented.

Ever since I learned about goal-setting in my teens, I’ve been a devoted goal-setter. Later, the corporate world introduced me to the S-M-A-R-T goal framework, which became my guide.

But my thinking around goals has shifted in the last few years. Instead of targets to hit, I began seeing them as tools for creating change in my life. One of the best insights I’ve heard on this came from Tara McMullin of What Works:

“The point of setting goals isn’t to reach them; it’s to change our behavior and teach us what we need to learn.”

This year, that idea really struck a chord. I realized the flaw in my goal-setting approach: I’ve been focused too much on outcomes—things that are often outside my control. For example, I’ve set goals like “Gain x new subscribers for WAGO” or “Lose x pounds,” only to feel frustrated when the results didn’t perfectly match my efforts.

The thing 2024 drove home for me is this: outcomes are unpredictable. Actions, however, are entirely mine to control.

As I head into the new year, I’m shifting my approach. Instead of setting goals around results, I will anchor them in actions I can control. For example:

• Instead of “Gain x new subscribers,” I’ll aim to “Consistently publish well-written essays every Sunday.”

• Instead of “Lose x pounds,” I’ll focus on “Eat salads 5 days a week.”

I’m excited to try this action-based approach. It feels more concrete and less stressful. Who knows? If this year’s small experiments are any indication, the outcomes might just take care of themselves.

4. Other people’s successes only highlight what’s possible.

Comparison-itis. Yep, I know that one. Seeing others achieve big, shiny goals while I’m still fumbling along has, at times, left me feeling deflated. Why them and not me? What do they know (or have) that I don’t?

I’m a little embarrassed to admit how often this mindset sneaks up on me. By now, I’m old enough and should know better than to let comparison-itis take over. But it still happens! Ugh!

This year, I saw other writers share their “milestone stories” on Substack. At first, my comparison-itis flared up like red, itchy hives every time I read one of those posts. But I feel like I’ve turned a corner somehow and can now see things differently. Instead of letting other people’s achievements trigger my self-doubt, I’m learning to see them as proof of what’s possible.

One thing that’s helped is seeing the connection to my own goals. Focusing too much on outcomes (and trying to match someone else’s success) only fuels the comparison spiral. But when I shift my focus to my action goals, I feel less pressure to measure up and more committed to my own path.

Lately, when I see someone’s milestone story, I can genuinely celebrate their success. Their journey shows me what’s achievable; my own actions are what will get me there.

This shift hasn’t been perfect, and I still catch myself slipping into envy now and then. 😳 When I do, I tell myself that their success isn’t a judgment on me. It’s a nudge to keep going, take action, and trust that progress happens one step at a time.

How did your 2024 go?

Well, there you have it. Those are my four lessons (aka gifts) from 2024. I’d love to hear yours as well. What’s a key takeaway for you this year?

💭 muse

“On creative projects especially, because so much of it is outside of your control, you want to define success as much as possible on terms and conditions that are up to you. Is it the best thing that you wrote? Did you leave it all on the pages? Was it creatively fulfilling?” — Ryan Holiday

🍹 reader shout-out

Shout-out to WAGO reader Yvonne Marchese, age agitator, podcaster, and author of In Full Bloom: A Guide To Aging Playfully. A great little stocking stuffer for your favorite midlifer!

💬 last word

And because it’s that time of the year, I will, of course, indulge in my annual watching of a movie that so many people have pooh-poohed over the years. But who cares? 😂 #foreverahughgrantfan

May the odds be ever in your favor,
Lou Blaser