For years I approached the coming New Year as a self-improvement junkie.
It was all about “How to be better.” Or, in more honest language, “How to fix myself.”
What I’m noticing now—especially as this year comes to a close—is how familiar that reflex still is. Even after all this time.
There are two things I’ve been practicing that have helped me move into a New Year with a little more wholeness and compassion. I’m still learning them as I go, but they’ve mattered enough to share.
1. I’ve learned to look backwards first.
Chris Guillebeau is the brilliant teacher who first introduced me to an End-of-Year Review by asking two simple questions: What went well? And what needs work?
Before that, I was almost entirely future-focused. The most important thing was always setting new goals for fixing. I rarely slowed down long enough to really take in the year I had just lived.
Last week, I started an ongoing journal entry where I’m writing down the big learnings from 2025—and I’m surprised by how much there is to note. I keep thinking I’m done, and then I remember something else. There’s gratitude there. There’s grief. There’s humility. There’s wisdom I would have missed if I’d rushed ahead. Doing this first brings a kind of clarity I never found by only looking forward.
2. I’m practicing measuring myself backwards.
This insight comes from Dr. Benjamin Hardy’s book The Gap and The Gain. He names something I didn’t realize I’d been doing for most of my life—measuring where I am now against who I think I should be in the future. (The Gap)
And of course I always lost. No matter how much I’d grown, it never felt like enough.
When I measure backwards instead—who I was a year ago compared to who I am now—I can actually see growth. (The Gain). That shift brings more confidence, clarity, and compassion than almost anything else I’ve tried. I still set goals. I just don’t want them to be another way I abandon myself. For someone with a strong inner fixer, this has been quietly life changing.
Amidst the holiday hustle, I’m trying to give myself permission to reflect on what 2025 has meant for me—even if that reflection is imperfect or unfinished. Sometimes it’s a voice note recorded while driving. Sometimes it’s a quiet walk where nothing profound happens.
Looking backwards like this is practicing wholeness. It helps me stay balanced—honoring where I’ve been while still feeling open to what’s next. When I only look forward, I stop being present with myself.
Here’s to a gentler completion of the year—and to noticing the gains we’re often too quick to dismiss.
You are loved. All parts of you.
Delightfully,
brooke
P.S. Not everything feels like a gain. In an upcoming email, I’m going to share one of my perceived fails from the year—and how I’m working through it. Practicing wholeness includes the willingness to sit with what didn’t work and what isn’t comfortable. And this time of year feels like a particularly honest moment for that kind of reckoning.