manifestations, musings, and a year of abundance
2024 reflections + my hopes and dreams for 2025
I have a friend who, without fail, turns her face to the sky during a full moon. She closes her eyes and manifests her dreams—no crystals, no incantations, just quiet intention. It’s simple, almost childlike in its purity, and here’s the thing: she says it works.
The evidence? A spot at her dream fashion school, a partner on the up-and-up in the creator community, and a Brooklyn apartment so charming it feels like it’s been plucked straight out of Pinterest (not to mention, has an adorable cat named Lemon roaming around).
Now, do I think the moon has magic powers? Not so much. But there’s something undeniably powerful about the act of naming your hopes and dreams, of taking a moment to envision the life you want. After all, the moon isn’t granting wishes here—all of the credit goes to my friend’s clarity of purpose and sense of direction. The moon is just the excuse.
When I visited her in New York late last year, the full moon made an unplanned (yet oddly cinematic) appearance during a late-night walk. We noticed it at the same time, and she nudged me, “Let’s manifest together.”
Standing under the city lights-illuminated sky, I knew full well the absurdity of what we were doing. But I looked up, closed my eyes, and let my mind wander. Of course, I could have wished for something glamorous—a life of jet setting around the world or a lakeside villa on Lake Como—but what I landed on was quieter, less glossy: a life rooted in work that matters, relationships that thrive, and adventures that stretch both my body and my worldview. Something honest. Something sustainable.
Is it corny to say that moment stayed with me? Maybe. But as I head into 2025, that little moonlit exercise has become an unexpected anchor. And in honor of that night, here’s my letter to future me—a map of hopes for this year and a reminder of what abundance looked like in 2024.
Dear future self,
If one word could sum up the past year, it would be this: abundance. Not in a “bank account overflowing” sense—though wouldn’t that be nice, heh?—but in the fullness of experiences, growth, and good moments.
There was Work: a promotion (good), more money (great), and a heap of new responsibilities (eh, mostly good, I think 🤔). You survived half-a-dozen fires, mainly metaphorical. And acquired a new company-branded blanket—objectively useless for putting out fires at work but undoubtedly stylish on your living room chair.
Then there were Adventures. The year overflowed with firsts: skiing down a black diamond in Whistler with snow in your everywhere and fear in your stomach. Eating the fattiest tuna in Japan that melted in your mouth like butter. Driving along the Oregon coast where the sea stacks rise defiantly from the ocean, like ancient guardians standing watch over the rolling waves. A Milky Way-painted starry sky, sunrise to sunset hikes (and let’s not forget, liberating poops) in the Yosemite backcountry, and even a night out at the club (which I’m counting as an unconventional adventure), where you danced to Bollywood music ‘til 2 a.m. and (to your surprise) had a blast.
Hobbies pulled you back to yourself in all the best ways. You splurged on that Niche Zero grinder, swore you’d never buy café coffee again (spoiler: you did), and made phở gà that would make any Vietnamese bà proud. Maybe next year, you’ll learn to make phở’s spicy cousin, bún bò huế. You hosted parties and casual get-togethers in your beloved, conveniently-located purple Victorian and learned to play chess—even if your main strategy is still “confuse your opponent with chaos.”
And then there was Fitness, which brought triumphs and, let’s face it, a little humility. The year came with personal records: on bench press, on squats, and (briefly) on weekly 5Ks, until your ankle staged a mutiny. You also took your first medieval-torture pilates class and emerged (mostly) alive and very sore. Here’s hoping 2025 holds more activities to get up, get out, and stay active.
In Relationships, you surprised yourself. You revived old friendships, deepened newer ones, and found ways to make life richer, even across miles. Your partner continues to be your partner-in-crime and support system, from exploring Japan together to comforting you when you lost your grandpa. That grief, raw as it was, became a bridge—fragile but real—connecting you more closely to your loved ones.
Now, if 2024 was about trying, exploring, and expanding, 2025 is about dialing in. Refining. Pruning. Keeping what works and gently letting go of the rest.
I hope, by this time next year, you’ve spent more time in nature—a couple of overnight backpacking trips minimum, with no more water-related near-catastrophes and spiked heart rates (🥵). Maybe you’ve covered a new continent’s trails or stood among forests older than memory.
I hope you’ve challenged yourself physically—a half-marathon, or at least a 10K, and fewer breaks on those uphill climbs. Your VO₂ max can do better(!!) And a strong core to power you through it.
But beyond fitness goals and PRs, I hope you’ve kept space for play. For embroidery afternoons where you get more polished french knots than tangled, sagging knobs of thread in the fabric. For learning New York-style bagel recipes you know you’ll never really master (but who cares, as long as they’re good enough to slather with cream cheese, right?) And for writing words no one will read but you.
More than anything, I hope you’ve leapt into something new—specifically, work that matters. Maybe it’s returning to your passion for designing human-centered AI experiences or focusing on creator tools or edtech products. Something that not only sparks your curiosity but also could make a tangible difference in society. Whether it’s through a mission-driven startup or a project you’ve planted and nurtured yourself, I sincerely hope you’re spending your days building cool sh*t with cool people, and making life a little more creative, empowering, or kinder for others. (¿Por qué no los tres?)
Because if the past few years were about building foundations and weaving a safety net, 2025 is about fine-tuning, taking aim, and launching forward—to take less and give more, both to yourself and your communities, in ways that truly matter.
See you under the full moon this time next year. 🌝
~ your 25-year-old self
