A Year of Sundays: 52/2025

We made it.

There is something profoundly satisfying about reaching the last Sunday of the year — a day wrapped in gratitude, reflection, and a quiet exhale of “Yes… we made it.” It reminds me of one of my children’s favorite childhood books, Leo the Late Bloomer by Robert Kraus. In it, little Leo the tiger struggles to read, write, and keep up with others. His patient parents remind him that he will bloom “in his own time,” and one day, Leo does — declaring proudly, “I made it!”

That simple line became a family tradition for us. For years — and still to this day — after finishing something meaningful or surviving something hard, we look at each other and say, “We made it like Leo!”

And that is exactly how I feel about 2025.

This year has been a remarkable teacher. It offered awe, resilience, discomfort, revelation, and the chance to start again — sometimes all in the same week. When I began A Year of Sundays, I intended it to be a reflective journal. But it evolved into something greater: a practice in mindfulness, perspective, and grace. It became a mirror that showed me not just how I responded to the world, but how I grew within it.

Alan Watts once wrote, “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” That, I think, was the rhythm of 2025. We did not resist the chaos; we learned to move with it — to find meaning amid motion.

Daniel Goleman reminded us in Emotional Intelligence that, “It’s not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive, but those who can best manage change.” Managing change became our collective art form this year — learning when to speak, when to pause, and when to rest.

Louise Hay taught us the healing power of thought: “Every thought we think is creating our future.” That truth guided many of my affirmations this year. Each Sunday was another reminder that the narratives we choose to believe about ourselves shape the paths we walk.

Caroline Myss, in Sacred Contracts, wrote, “You cannot change anything in your life until you understand why you created it.” That insight continues to ground me — not in guilt, but in awareness. Awareness gives us the power to rewrite the story.

And Malcolm Gladwell, with his signature curiosity, offered the comfort that, “We learn by example and by direct experience because there are real limits to the adequacy of verbal instruction.” Indeed, 2025 was full of lessons we could only live to understand.

Finally, Florence Scovel Shinn — always a guiding light — said, “Your word is your wand.” Every affirmation, every “I am,” every prayer, and every quiet whisper of hope this year became a spell of creation.

So, as we close the book on 2025, I celebrate the awe that carried us and the resilience that sustained us.

To all who read along, reflected, and grew with me — thank you. You have been part of a beautiful collective unfolding.

Here is my final affirmation of the year:✨ I am in awe of my journey, grateful for my resilience, and open to the infinite possibilities of what comes next. ✨

And as we’ve always said in my family —“We made it like Leo!” 

References

Goleman, D. (1995). Emotional intelligence: Why it can matter more than IQ. Bantam Books.

Gladwell, M. (2008). Outliers: The story of success. Little, Brown and Company.

Hay, L. (1984). You can heal your life. Hay House.

Myss, C. (2001). Sacred contracts: Awakening your divine potential. Harmony Books.

Schinn, F. S. (1925). The game of life and how to play it. Devon-Adair.

Watts, A. (1951). The wisdom of insecurity: A message for an age of anxiety. Pantheon Books.