I love reading annual letters from investors. It was one of my favorite activities in my last job. My single favorite part of my last job was the chance to take a stab at it myself and write a few annual letters for some of my clients. I’m told some of them even read the letters! This letter will mark the first of I hope many “personal annual letters.” An opportunity to reflect on the past year and think about the future. Given it was a busy year for me this is a bit more of a literal recap, but I would hope future letters go deeper than just “here’s what I did this year.”
In my opinion, there is no better tool for learning than writing.
No better test of understanding than trying to transform your thoughts into words and put them on paper. Writing makes you a better thinker, deep thinking makes you a better writer, and the practice of writing improves writing, boosting the whole process. Writing also provides a good dose of humility for how little you know when you force yourself to put thoughts onto paper. When you put something on paper, print, etc., you will feel like an idiot, but it’s the best way to learn. If you don’t believe me, pick the topic you think you know the most about and write about it.
So this is Year One for me. If I can keep this up I know I will learn and grow more than if I hide behind comfort, laziness, or fear of putting words out into the world. If not this letter, I hope one of these has an impact on at least one person from its content or in deciding to take up this practice yourself. Even just flipping through a year’s worth of photos on your phone you forgot you took is a fun exercise, but I’d love to read your letters!
If I make it to Year 50 one of these might even be concise…
2024 in Review
I think I can say with near certainty that 2024 will go down as one of the most impactful years of my life. I have similar high hopes for 2025, though I don’t have even a vague sense for how these next pages of my life will be written.
I started 2024 exactly how I finished 2023, bass fishing at dawn in Florida. I am not a New Year’s Eve person. Never have been. Maybe it’s ingrained from missing a few New Year’s “parties” in middle school or high school and potentially missed midnight kisses. Maybe you know those parties too, you were hoping to see your crush (who most likely has never been told your true feelings), but you’re not there and then after you find out they kissed THAT person. Or absolutely nothing happens and you just imagine the whole thing… Crying into your away messages with emo lyrics for weeks. I promise I’m totally over those missed parties…
Maybe it’s just the feeling of pointless pressure to make the night more memorable than any other night with friends. A bar that suddenly charges 5 times what you would spend only to never be able to make it to the bartender. A party with a bunch of people you barely know. Sweaty inside, freezing cold outside. Tripping over my heels all night. Whatever it is, it’s not my holiday. I am open to my views on New Year’s Eve changing and I certainly have enjoyed some, but it’s not cracking my Top 5 holidays.
To me, it’s just another night. So instead of trying to brute force a good night, I would always rather wake up early on January 1st and spend the morning doing something I enjoy. Then I actually take advantage of a day off. Maybe I’m just an old lonely miser, the Ebenezer Scrooge of NYE.
So far, this process isn’t going well if I needed this many paragraphs to tell you I woke up on January 1st, caught a few bass and flew back to NY with the airport moral superiority of having zero hangover on New Year’s Day. Bloodshot eyes and double breakfast sandwich orders were everywhere. The airport bathroom, already a soulless hellscape on a good day, was a complete warzone. I’ve been the most hungover person in an airport before, so when I have a leg up on the crowd I’ll bask in that.
January was mostly spent enjoying my new hobby, hiking. Living alone in the burbs outside of NYC for a year (with a car!) allowed me to lean into this hobby. This year I discovered you can in fact hike during the middle of the winter. Hiking is one of the ways I clear my mind. Walking alone in the woods can help you ruminate on questions or simply turn off your mind to recharge. I think everyone should have at least one hobby that allows them to get into a state where they can have as little going on upstairs as possible. Fishing and hiking are the two best methods for me. Going to the gym is another helpful activity. I hear some people enjoy jogging for extended periods of time…
I spent most weekends at the beginning of the year hiking around the Hudson River Valley and thinking about the year in front of me. It was on a drive to a hike the previous November that my decision to leave my job was solidified. I spent the drive thinking about my goodbye email (a wonderful company tradition) and… sobbing. Because I’m me, I drafted that email six months before leaving as part of my decision making process. To sit with it and see how I felt. My process of leaving my job was nothing like the movies… no yelling, no telling off, no Jerry Maguire speech, and a whole lot of crying. It was the biggest decision I made in 2024 and one of the biggest in my life.
January also had a wonderful trip to Monument Valley and Zion National Park where I bought my annual park pass in preparation for the year I had in front of me. I saw the first of many nights this year of stargazing I couldn’t imagine as a NYC resident. I visited the famous Forrest Gump desert view, walked through Antelope Canyon, briefly got my rental car stuck on a snowy road, and got very scared in other situations I now find hilarious. I suppose I have grown this year.
February was much of the same. A lot of hiking. A trip down to Florida for some more fishing and frustrating golf rounds. Reading, thinking, and podcasts as part of my long drawn out, dramatic process of pondering fifty times whether or not I was really going to leave the job I’d been at for a decade and take time off. Here is a sampling of my reading material at the beginning of the year as a reflection of that…
- Greenlights – Matthew Mcconaughey
- Pivot Year – Brianna Wiest
- Quit – Annie Duke
- Tuesdays with Morrie – Mitch Albom
- Midnight Library – Matt Haig (the first novel I’ve read in years…)
- A Gentle Reminder – Bianca Sparacino
- 101 Essays That Will Change How You Think – Brianna Wiest
Aaand I watched The Secret Life of Walter Mitty about ten times… taking my lifetime total somewhere up near fifty. Highly recommend this move if you’ve never seen it.
On March 7th, coincidently exactly ten years and five months from my first day (3,804 days) I told my boss and mentor my plans to leave the company. I made it through precisely two sentences before weeping like no one has ever wept in that office. Put those tears and tissues in the hall-of-fame rafters.
The tears flowed even more due to the fact that I received what can only be described as the most supportive response a manager, mentor, and friend could ever provide. I hope for anyone else that has to make such a difficult decision they receive that same level of support. Part of my anguish for months had been the feeling that I wasn’t just quitting a job, I was deserting and quitting a group of people. A group of people that I respect, trust, appreciate, and love for all they’ve given to me. Thankfully, the response across the board was incredibly supportive and I made it through the rest of my conversations L’Oréal Kids tear-free. With that, it was officially official. There was no turning back now.
As is tradition, I had just given my 2 12 weeks notice, so the rest of the Spring was mostly trying to ensure I didn’t ruin my reputation in my last few months. It was important for me to end on a good note. I worked through my last day. I told all my clients myself why I was leaving. I told all my coworkers myself in person why I was leaving. I worked through and presented in my final client meeting a few days before my last day and not just because it was in Bermuda… I’m sure I forgot to do a few things that someone else had to pick up (sorry!), but I tried my best to work until the very end.
The day after my last day of work in May (a bit tired from a celebration with my comrades) I finished packing up my apartment and moved it all into a U-Haul. The day after that, my deconstructed apartment went into a storage unit in Connecticut, and the following day I hit the road where I spent the rest of 2024. Note to readers, factor in more time for a big move than I did…
I drove cross country visiting national parks and camping for the first time in my life. I hiked most days, watched more sunrises and sunsets than any summer before, slept under the stars, “bathed” in mountain lakes, saw incredible scenery and diverse wildlife, and spent a lot of time by myself. It wasn’t all solo travel. I stayed with friends and family in Massachusetts, New York, DC, Maryland, North Carolina, Chicago, Washington, Canada, and Utah. It was a friendly reminder that sometimes you need to invite yourself places and of the kindness of others to host and feed a tired nomad. There was also two bachelor parties, two weddings, and a family vacation in Wyoming.
After North America, I spent most of September hiking in Peru outside of Huaraz in the north and around Cusco in the ancient Incan land. I hiked in the Cordillera Blanca, stayed at my favorite campsite yet, and spent a morning at the great citadel of Machu Picchu. I photographed street dogs and ate my fair share of ceviche and lomo saltado. I saw some of the bluest alpine lakes on the planet including the highlight, Laguna 69 (yes, that’s the name…). I discovered HAFE above 10,000 feet, but thankfully not HAPE or HACE. I also had the opportunity to use my (waning) Spanish skills again. Me llamo Juan, puedo ir al baño? I had a rather unfortunately-timed bout of food poisoning, but it was a great first trip to Peru. I left plenty to return and explore on future trips like the Huayhuash mountain range, Peruvian Amazon, Colca Canyon, and Choquequirao.
After a few days at home to see family, recharge, do laundry, and pack for the next few months I boarded a flight to India enroute to Nepal. Approximately ten years worth of United miles finally came in handy when I was able to drain them all on a business class bed seat to Delhi. It’s a wonderful and addicting way to travel and something I wholeheartedly believe would never lose its shimmer for me. I had a delicious cheeseburger in the United lounge, negronis, an ice cream sundae at 35,000 feet, and most importantly, a bed to actually get some sleep on the plane. I’m ruined forever with no line of sight into ever enjoying a business class transoceanic flight in the future. I spent one night in India in the closest hotel I could find to the Delhi airport, ate five kati rolls, and boarded a short flight the next day to Kathmandu.
My first adventure in Nepal was the short Mardi Himal trek where I was introduced to the Himalayas, teahouses, dal baht, and a re-introduction to the wonderful world of squat toilets. It was a beautiful four night trek highlighted by the sunrise views at Mardi Himal Base Camp at 4,500 meters (~14,500 ft). From there, you enjoy 360 degree views of the Annapurna Massif and Machhapuchhare, Fishtail Peak. Unless you are set on visiting Everest, I would probably recommend the Annapurna region as a first foray into trekking the Himalayas. From my experience, it is more accessible to start and finish a trek compared to EBC (Lukla…) and Pokhara is a much more relaxing pre/post trek stop compared to Kathmandu.
After a few (too many) nights in Kathamandu where I mostly just waited to start my next trek I also completed the Everest (Sagarmatha) Base Camp Trek over the course of two and a half weeks in the Khumbu region of Nepal. I’ve already written about the ups and downs of that journey so I won’t go into detail here, but the trek was one of the highlights of my life and the Himalayas are the most impressive natural sight I’ve ever seen. A reminder of just how small we are.
After Nepal, I flew to Perth Australia, the furthest major city on the globe from where I’ve lived my whole life in the northeast US. Contrary to the saying that if you dig a hole deep enough you’ll end up in China, if it were possible and you made it through the earth’s liquid iron and solid inner core, any American would end up in the middle of the ocean off the western coast of Western Australia. As you can see in the Antipodes map below:
Source: Wikipedia
Western Australia is probably not the first place many Americans would go in Australia, and it wasn’t for me having spent a few months Down Unda’ in 2011, but there was something about traveling to the opposite side of the globe that intrigued me. I couldn’t get any further from home without a boat or a spaceship. After Perth, Rottnest Island, and camping in Margaret River I actually visited THE furthest land from home, Cape Leeuwin, the southwesterly-most point in Australia, which I proudly proclaimed in the gift store when buying a sticker and a postcard. In true Aussie fashion, the response was, “bit far to travel for a sticker, mate.”
After WA, I flew to Tasmania to complete The Overland Track, a traditionally 65km trek through Cradle Mountain – Lake St. Clair National Park. It is a popular multi-day trek, sometimes called the greatest hike in Australia and uses a permit system that allows 34 independent trekkers to start each day during the summer from October to May. When I booked, I managed to get the one permit still available for all of November. This was my first foray into true backpack hiking. Up until that point, my hiking was either day trips or guided multi-day hikes in Peru and Nepal where either a donkey or a porter was carrying the bulk of my clothes and/or equipment. On the Overland Track, I had to carry everything I would need for five days. Every scrap of food, clothes, a sleeping bag, and tent. It’s a well worn trail, but true wilderness. No outlets, no service, just the Tasmanian bush.
The trek is broken up into sections with picturesque, but basic huts at each stop. I mostly aimed to arrive early enough to secure one of the few outdoor tent platforms each night. Since I was required to carry a tent, I wanted to reward my back and knees by actually utilizing it. The bunkrooms in the huts aren’t the Ritz anyway. You’re on a plank of wood in bunkbeds and subject to a game of snoring roulette depending on those around you. Snoring ranks right near the top of my pet Peeves (the poltergeist).
In dry weather, I’ll take the (relative) quiet of a night in my tent under the stars. As long as the possums don’t get any ideas about entering your tent for food and you avoid stepping directly on a tiger snake, it’s the way to go. The tent platforms had some of the best views at each of the hut locations as an added bonus.
For me, carrying a pack that weighed 40lbs at the start of the trek (and didn’t seem to get much lighter as I ate all my food) was significantly more difficult than dealing with high altitudes from 14-18k feet, but with next to nothing on my back in the Himalayas. I didn’t realize how heavy 40lbs can feel until I decided to skip a hut to make better time and walked 15 miles over rocks, mud, tree roots, and more mud. My knees can still feel The Overland Track.
Most of the walking, while beautiful, was spent wondering why I was out in the Tassie wilderness lugging everything on my back for fun during my sabbatical. Cursing every misstep, fake rock that turned out to be a puddle, and the weight of my tent. Without fail, every afternoon when I made it to the next hut I would say in awe, “this is ******* incredible.” Glowing fiery sunsets, vistas of buttongrass plains and craggy mountains, wombats, wallabies and pademelons snacking on grass, and a group of smelly trekkers to commiserate and laugh with every night.
Toward the end of the trek there were reports of frigid and rainy weather rolling in (it can snow on the Overland Track any month of the year) so I combined another two sections and completed the trek early. I opted to skip the ferry to walk another 18kms for funsies and finish the job on my own two feet. As a believer in balance, I also finished a day early so that I could splurge on a (probably overpriced) stay at the Lake St Clair Lodge with a cheeseburger and a few beers. If you ever want to know how delicious a simple cheeseburger and a beer can be, just spend five days eating nothing but dehydrated backpacking meals. It was glorious.
I finished my time in Tasmania with trips to Maria Island where I saw hundreds of wombats, a few echidnas, and even one cheeky Tasmanian Devil(!), Freycinet National Park home to the famous Wineglass Bay and the loudest possums on earth, and Hobart for a bed and shower.
December was spent on the South Island of New Zealand. I did plenty more camping and hiking including three of the Great Walks (Routeburn, Kepler, and Abel Tasman by kayak). I visited Doubtful and Milford Sound, Mt. Cook, glaciers, turquoise lakes near Queenstown and Wanaka, and ate my weight in meat pies. Meat pies are a culinary masterpiece that is currently extremely slept on in the US and something I may need change. On my final night in New Zealand, I booked a spur of the moment trip to a private sanctuary for Little Penguins, sometimes called blue fairy penguins.
As a child, the blue fairy penguin (as I knew it then) was my favorite animal. It has since been unseated by the snow leopard, the ghost of the Himalayas. Seeing these adorable penguins in the wild was a full circle moment for me and my childhood obsession. After, I thought about what a young version of me would say to present-day me about the experience. Probably “what took you so long?” But, also proud of older me for following my inner child, finally reconnecting with nature these past couple years. It was a special end to a special trip.
The next day I boarded a plane to head back to the US for the first time in three months, having traveled east from NY around the world, as far as I could get, and with some incredible experiences under my belt. As a fun surprise, I told my parents the wrong date for my arrival and Ubered to the door at 9:30 at night to find them asleep and a tad freaked out by the doorbell. I had an 8:30 ETA in my mind… thankfully they woke up and I didn’t take a 5 iron to the head or a taser to the throat once I announced who it was.
15,000 miles of road tripping over the summer, a round-the-world trip, many days of walkabout alone with my thoughts in nature, and many nights in my tent under the stars. The only constant for six months was the companionship of my stuffed animal Bernese mountain dog.
I was home and in one piece.
Looking Forward
Many people have asked me about what I learned from this sabbatical. The short answer is a lot, the longer answer is that I won’t really have learned anything unless my experience changes the way that I live moving forward. Extended travel is a barrage of sensory inputs, but once it’s over what is the output? Is it merely a fond memory to reminisce on or will it actually change who you are and what you do. Here is a Spark Notes version of a few things I learned from the experience that I hope will stay with me. I know I will inevitably forget these lessons and re-learn them, and forget them again. Such is life. Absolutely none of these are things that I have mastered.
Despite what you see on the news, the world is a beautiful place. All of it. And the people that live here. That goes specifically and dramatically for the United States as well.
Some of the best places on earth don’t come with cell service or Wi-Fi.
I am addicted to my phone and that will need to be worked on in 2025. Chronicling my journey over Instagram made this addiction worse not better, even if I was able to enjoy many unplugged moments.
The National Parks are America’s greatest assets.
Animals rule. Nature is neat.
You should not wait your whole life for a distant, unpromised retirement to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see. Your interests may change and no one is guaranteed future health. You don’t have to quit your job for an extended period of time (or at all) in order to pursue the things you’re drawn to.
Follow your inner voice and curiosity, even if you can’t verbalize why you’re drawn to something.
Friends are kind, and they’ll provide a house, meal, and shower, but you have to ask for the help.
You don’t need that much in order to be happy. Many of the things you think you can’t live without you won’t miss at all. Ironically, the important things are easy to take for granted when you have them. It’s important to know what you really need in order to be happy or fulfilled and what’s just a distraction or a measuring stick toward others.
Trying new things and learning new hobbies is exciting and the opportunity to feel like a kid again.
Things don’t always go as planned, in those situations you can determine how you react. In every part of your life, you need to be prepared for uncertainty, change, and be able to adapt.
There is nothing better for your mental and physical health than being outside in nature. Anywhere will do, but bonus points for being around water, trees, and mountains. Physical activity is as much (or more) about the mental benefits as the physical.
You are stronger, more courageous, and more resilient than you think.
Growth and what you want in life lie on the other side of your fears and what you’ve been avoiding. You need to leave your comfort zone in order to grow and learn. Once you conquer the things that scared you they will often look silly in the rearview mirror.
The most important thing in life may be learning how to love yourself, so that you can learn how to better love others.
Cheers!
January 2025
Florida (OK, not home, home…)
P.S. I am excited to see where this year takes me, and you.
P.P.S. I may start writing on Substack alongside/instead of here. I have been spending increasing hours reading Substacks and really enjoy the platform for writing and learning. This website may turn into more random writing while Substack would be a bit more tailored to work interests. I also like the idea of writing slightly more anonymously and having traffic that only comes through Instagram isn’t exactly anonymous…