What Counted in 2025 (Even When It Didn’t Look Like Much)
- anartistslament
- Jan 21
- 4 min read
Updated: Mar 9
This time of year invites lists, totals, and highlights. We often feel compelled to quantify our experiences. We want numbers to prove whether a year was productive or not.
I’ve never been very good at that kind of accounting. Not because nothing happened, but because so much of what mattered this year can’t be neatly counted or summarized. Still, a few visible things did happen.
In 2025, I authored and published 24 essays on my new blog, An Artist’s Laments. I opened two print-on-demand shops — one for gift wrap, Wrapped With Wonder, and one for stationery, Personal Pages. I slowly and patiently filled them with hundreds of products (over 800) created from my own artwork. Additionally, I added dozens of new designs (66) to my Spoonflower shop. I posted 96 Instagram reels while juggling more accounts than I care to admit. I wrote stories that are waiting to be illustrated and helped storyboard children’s books that are still finding their final form.
Those numbers are real. They matter. But they don’t explain the year.
The Work Beneath the Work
What doesn’t show up in a year-end list is the work beneath the work.
Before any of those visible things could exist, systems had to be built. Not glamorous systems — just practical ones. These are ways of working that didn’t require reinventing the wheel every time. They are processes that respect both creativity and energy. Small decisions about tools, workflows, and boundaries quietly determine whether something can continue or will collapse under its own weight.
This kind of work rarely feels productive while you’re doing it. It feels slow, sometimes clumsy, and often unfinished. But without it, nothing else holds.
The Internal Shifts
Some of the most important work this year happened internally, without witnesses. Old patterns had to be noticed before they could be changed. The reflex to rush, the urge to over-polish, and the belief that something only counts if it’s finished, public, or praised had to be examined. I spent time learning how to sit with curiosity instead of outcomes, allowing ideas to develop without demanding immediate proof of their worth.
That internal recalibration didn’t produce a product I could upload or a link I could share — but it made every visible thing possible.
Skill Building That Didn’t Look Like Progress
Skill building followed a similar pattern. Learning rarely announces itself as progress. More often, it looks like confusion. It manifests as drafts that go nowhere, starting over more times than expected, and writing regularly again without always knowing where it would lead. One moment, I would think like a designer, and the next, like a storyteller. I learned how to work alongside new tools without losing my own voice in the process.
At the time, many of those moments felt like treading water. Looking back, they were the current carrying everything forward.
Looking Back Without Keeping Score
I’m writing this not as a recap of accomplishments, but as an invitation to look at a year differently.
If you’re reviewing your own year and feeling underwhelmed by what you can point to, I hope you’ll pause before judging it too harshly. Instead of asking only what you finished, consider asking what you learned how to do. What became easier? What no longer feels as frightening or unfamiliar as it once did?
Growth often happens quietly, long before it becomes visible.
I’m not closing 2025 with everything completed or resolved. There are still projects in progress, stories waiting for pictures, and ideas not quite ready to be named. But I’m ending the year steadier, clearer, and more rooted in how I want to work and live.
And that, I’m learning, counts.
Reflection
Before you tally what you finished this year, pause and ask:
What did I learn how to do in 2025?
What became easier than it was before?
What ways of thinking quietly shifted?
What foundations did I build that others can’t see?
Not everything that matters leaves a paper trail. Some of the most meaningful progress happens beneath the surface.
A Gentle Reflection — Free Download
Looking for a quieter way to review your year — or your season?
I created a small set of printable reflection cards designed to help you notice the work beneath the work. The learning, the shifts, the foundations that don’t always show up on a checklist. No goal-setting. No scorekeeping. Just thoughtful prompts you can return to anytime.
Choose the set that feels right for you:
Universal
Creative / Artist
General Life
There’s no wrong choice — and you can always come back for another set.
Embracing the Journey
As I reflect on this past year, I realize that the journey itself is as important as the destination. Each step, each misstep, has contributed to my growth. The quiet moments of introspection have been just as valuable as the loud celebrations of success.
I encourage you to embrace your journey. Celebrate the small victories and acknowledge the lessons learned along the way. It’s in these moments that we truly find our creative voice and connect with our artistic selves.
Let’s continue to support one another as we navigate these transitions. Together, we can rediscover our passions and find joy in the process of creation.
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