"Do you know what you want to do?"
A friend asks me at a holiday party after I've told her about my new job, confessing I don't like that I spend my days feeling like a fish out of water. She's really asking if I want to change jobs.
I was laid off last year as a journalist for print media, and after long-term unemployment finally found work as a copywriter in an industry I am not familiar with, and I'm slowly starting to understand.
"I don't know."
I answer frankly because I'm at a point in my life where for the first time, there's no set path I should follow. I've exhausted previous ventures -- I was once a scientist vying for professorship and a rookie journalist too -- and now I find myself covering new training ground, metaphorically and literally speaking.
It's scary but as I'm talking with my friend I realize something I haven't ever before realized in the face of uncertainty: not knowing what to do is liberating.
Without a clear goal in mind, I'm left with no option but to be curious. And in that moment, I decide that the word I want to define the year 2025 is "sponge;" I want to soak up everything. I want to learn from others.
Explore the terrain and take whichever path emerges. A fresh start can be daunting but I can see now it is also new and exciting.
A while back I decided to forego New Year Resolutions (I never really meet them) in exchange for a word to define the year. It gives it a bit more purpose, and makes it easier to follow, I suppose, at least for me.
It doesn't necessarily have to be a word too. Some years I've set a phrase to guide me instead. 2024 was "70-80% is good enough," which is based off something a previous boss taught me about perfectionism.
This year I want to be able to enjoy the process and I feel that can only be done if I'm curious about it. Ergo, "sponge." I think the idea has been percolating for a few weeks since I had to do my company's employee reviews.
I had to supply goals and to be fair, I borrowed them straight from my job description because though I've meddled with copywriting in the past, it was always one foot in, one foot out. So I haven't the faintest idea of what my goals should be for writing copy.
So part of being a sponge will involve reading lots about copywriting to truly define what I want to learn, and what I want to practice. In essence, it will be about going back to feeling like a kid, asking endless questions and exploring without hesitation.
I want to tap into that version of myself again. I want to soak in the wisdom of my colleagues, the nuances of this new industry, and the art of crafting words that connect and convert.
It also means letting go of the need to be perfect or the pressure to have all the answers right now, which I find impossibly difficult. I compare myself with others, therefore I am?
But the truth is I don’t need to define my entire career or master copywriting overnight. Instead, I can approach this year with the mindset that I’m building a foundation, one lesson, one project, one conversation at a time.
And honestly, that feels freeing.
If this past year has taught me anything, it’s that life doesn’t always unfold the way we plan.
So here’s to 2025—the year of curiosity, of exploration, of being a sponge. I don’t know where this path will lead, but I’m ready to embrace it fully, flaws and all. After all, isn’t that what growth is all about?
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