Confession: I had an unusually hard time finding my word this year.

Typically, the word magically comes to me sometime in December and it's like an epiphany or a lightening strike. A word popped into my brain a few weeks ago, but it didn't feel quite right. It was somehow "off" or incomplete. So I had to peel back a few layers, reflect on 2024, and ask myself three important questions. If you're interested in finding a word for the year or feeling meh about your choice, maybe they'll help you too:

• "What was hard for me last year?"

• "What do I need this year?"

• "What is holding me back from what I want to achieve this year?"

"OMG! I LOVE your shoes!"

Reflexively, the women I was standing with in a small circle all looked down at my feet. In a split second, I felt a combination of relief, grief, and gratitude. Relief that the unconventional shoe choice for a professional event was peer-approved; grief that I wasn't wearing fancy heels like 98% of the other women at the event; and gratitude for stepping out of my comfort zone.

My eight-year-old son keeps saying, "I know your parents are Santa." When I ask him to tell me more, he says, with some exasperation: "I know reindeer can't fly. I know Santa can't fit down the chimney." He repeats this every night before bed. He even told my husband he's going to set up a video camera capturing us leaving his gifts, but he thinks we'll erase it while he's sleeping. Mind you, he has no access to any sort of camera, but you can't blame a kid for trying.

'Twas the night before this newsletter goes to press, and all through the house, here is where things stand tomorrow when you read this:

Days until Christmas: 20 
Days until New Year's Eve: 26 
List of incomplete tasks: 

To show my appreciation, I'd like to give you a little laugh to start your week, courtesy of the earliest iteration of my blog: my old high school newspaper column, "On Marino's Mind." It seems like my sentiments back in the December 1997 issue are spot on for the present day -- and I think you'll enjoy the fact that my "voice" is very much the same. So, here are three excerpts from my December 1997 column:

It was the perfect night for stargazing: 55 degrees with clear skies. The Astronomy Club's telescopes were set up along the 50 yard line on the football field and kids from grades K-12 were scattered about. I sat on a blanket with another mom, simultaneously marveling about seeing Saturn's rings and chuckling at our second graders playing tag and rolling around on the turf in between stargazing. Core childhood memories were locked in.

The voters stood in line at the polls. After they manually signed the voter register, a volunteer gave them a paper ballot and directed them to one of two private voting booths. Each voter entered a booth and reviewed their choices in the primary election for civic rights in their community:

At my old job, a client required that we submit a quarterly report about one of their biggest cases. It was a template covering the case's procedural posture, the status of discovery, pending and anticipated motions, strategy recommendations, and of course, projected costs and fees. It required time, thought, and analysis. As the junior partner running the day-to-day on the case, yours truly was responsible for the quarterly report.

I kept patting the pocket on my suit jacket to make sure my business cards were still there. The incessant checking was just nerves -- I had given out approximately zero cards so there was no reason to believe they'd gone anywhere. I glanced around the room and felt overwhelmed. There were a few hundred people milling about at the cocktail hour before the awards dinner. 

This may seem obvious, but it bears stating: LinkedIn is a free, powerful tool. I know multiple people that don't use LinkedIn unless they are looking for a job. Or, they look at what their contacts post, but they don't click "like," leave a comment, or share any content. These are wasted opportunities! Don't sit on the sidelines or be a voyeur. And no, you don't "need" LinkedIn Premium -- I don't have it. 

What makes you different? Chances are, others have your same professional skillset. I am not under the false impression that I'm the only professional speaker out there talking about quieting the imposter voice, saying no, setting boundaries, and extinguishing burnout -- and doing it well.

But think about walking down the sparkling water aisle at the grocery store. There are countless brands. Some people prefer LaCroix, others prefer Waterloo, and some prefer the store brand. They all offer basically the same thing, but we like what we like -- and are loyal to that brand. (Ever get in a Coke vs. Pepsi debate with some? Yikes!)

The Honeycrisp apple looked like something out of a fall catalogue. It was oversized, perfectly round, and a nice mix of red and green hues. As I cut it into slices for my son's after school snack, I couldn't help but snag a bite. But I was disappointed -- it had no taste! What a bummer. A little bit later, I popped a mint in my mouth. Once again, I tasted nothing. 

"Who let the dogs out? Who, who, who, who, who?!" The song blared through the speaker connected to my phone as my son stood up to bat. He had a smile on his face and his shoulders squared. It was the first annual "Boys vs. Moms" baseball game to cap off the summer season. I wasn't watching from the outfield, but from my post as ballpark DJ. Yep, you read that right.

When was the last time you allowed yourself to do the thing you wanted?

When was the last time you gave yourself that grace?

When was the last time you wrote yourself a permission slip -- and did it?!

As I wheeled my cart out of Target a few weeks ago, my brain did a bunch of mental gymnastics. I remember thinking about the oppressive heat, the menu for the book event I was hosting the following week, whether I would join my family and friends at the town pool later that day, my next newsletter, and so on. This was in the span of less than one minute.

It turns out, I'd been on autopilot. For the 10+ years we've lived in the house. Oof. All that time, I never once thought to reexamine my organizational approach. I kept this odd configuration for no good reason except for, well, that's how I'd always done it. And that's exactly why I share this seemingly innocuous and mundane tale. Since then, I've made it a point to reexamine so many things I do out of habit or without thinking.

As I lay facedown on the massage table with nearly two dozen needles in my neck and back, about a million thoughts went through my head. They ranged from how did I get here to I can't believe I have so many needles in my neck and back to did she really just say that?! Welcome to my inaugural acupuncture visit! To reveal my mind's inner workings, I'll unpack those questions one by one.

On Monday afternoon at about 3 p.m. ET, I found myself sitting on a picnic blanket on the back field of my son's elementary school. Parents milled about, craning their necks at the sky while holding solar eclipse viewing glasses in place. We were about to get to a 90% eclipse and our glasses revealed that the sun already looked, well, like a crescent moon. The air was electric and brimming with anticipation.

The other day, a woman old enough to be my mother commented: "I guess you're officially middle-aged now, right?!" I'm 43 years old, so doing the math, I agreed -- somewhat in surprise. I guess I am middle-aged. Later that same day, I was part of a conversation where someone said, "You know you're in your 40's when...." And later that same week, I saw some friends for the first time in awhile and we spoke ad nauseum about our various ailments before joking: "We got old!"

So, is the universe telling me something? I'm not sure, but in honor of the rule of three, here is my random list of "Tell me you're middle-aged without telling me you're middle-aged."

Harmony is, by definition, "a consistent, orderly, or pleasing arrangement of parts; congruity." (Thanks, Dictionary.com.) As I kept harmony top of mind this year, I was reminded of two adages that are opposite sides of the same coin:

• Good is not the enemy of perfect.

• Some is better than none.