Welcome to So Relatable, a newsletter that helps creative folks improve their craft, achieve their goals, and eat better snacks. I’m glad you’re here! ✨
Want to support my creative work? Buy my zine! It’s a braided essay and illustrated journey about making art, growing older, and learning to climb. Order yours here.
2024 was marked by incredible highs and devastating lows. Because I’m in the midst of The Artist’s Way, I’m noticing what Julia Cameron calls “synchronicity”—the occurrence of events that appear related, despite having no clear connection. The following lessons are an exercise in this idea, earned not from one moment or event, but a culmination. Which is a nice way of saying the universe often had to hit me over the head until I finally understood what it was trying to teach me. Sometimes it takes a while for a lesson to sink in!
Here are the lessons, themes, and gifts—some gleefully welcomed, some accepted begrudgingly—that 2024 chose to bestow:
1. You won’t regret making the harder choice.
In many ways, this was not an easy year. A few times, I was faced with a choice: easy, or hard. Choosing the harder thing was always worth it. A fun example of this is climbing. I learned to lead climb this year, which is when you bring the rope up with you and clip in as you go. The risks are greater, the climb is harder, the falls are bigger, the terror is real. But this type of climbing opens up so many more possibilities when it comes to exploring the outdoors, so I felt my fear and did it anyway. A sad example of choosing the hard thing is Calvin, who passed away in our arms in September. As he neared the end that terrible morning, I could have turned away. Instead, I buried my face in his fur and held him through his final moments. It was one of the worst moments of my life, and I will never regret it. The hard things are hard, but they will make you better.
2. Pay attention to what you pay attention to.
This was a line from my zine, the one that people responded to the most, and it’s become a personal mantra. Over the course of the year, I realized that the things we pay attention to become more powerful. Attention is currency, and too easily spent. This may seem obvious, but it didn’t truly click for me until I totaled my car. Now, I’m very careful with my attention and where I put it. I quit Twitter, deactivated Facebook, deleted Amazon, and set a ten-minute timer on Instagram. I’m limiting my news to a daily dose of NPR—enough to stay informed, without letting the chaos of the new administration monopolize my every waking thought. Instead of scrolling for passive updates, I text my friends directly. Instead of rushing to the next thing, I slow down and look at what’s right in front of me. Your attention is valuable and limited—spend it wisely.
3. It’s okay to have big feelings. Don’t be small.
I had a lot of feelings this year, about a lot of different things. In the past, I might have ignored those feelings, pushed them down and compartmentalized them. Told myself I was being silly or dramatic, pretended everything was fine. This year I decided to wallow, for better and for worse. I let myself feel the lows and the highs. I cried in public. I admitted to failure. I tried something new and asked people to read it. I got deeply angry and felt profound joy. I told people when they hurt my feelings, even though I worried it would scare them away. I told my friends that I love them, and held them even closer. I let my feelings be big and messy, and nothing bad happened. In fact, my life felt richer and deeper as a result, and no mess was too big to clean up. It’s okay to take the space you need.
4. Art is everywhere. You just have to look.
This was the year I gave up trying to publish a novel, at least for a while. It was a struggle at first, one I’ve written about extensively. Moving on from that long-held dream was terrifying, but once I let go I was able to embrace a more expansive idea of what it means to live a creative life. I experimented with different art forms, created new things, picked up new practices, and found inspiration in unexpected places. Art became more than a thing I did alone at my desk—it became the way I approach life and experience the world. I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface of this particular lesson, and I’m excited to see where it will take me in the coming years. Art isn’t something you do; it’s something you become.
5. The only one who can save us is us.
In 2024, I finally gave up on various institutions, from government agencies to corporate organizations to the nuclear family. We don’t need to wait for these entities to love us or accept us, and we absolutely cannot expect them to protect us. Instead, we must find ways to do those things for each other. This was the year I joined new communities, built new families, and leaned in to new traditions. I realized it’s okay to ask for and offer help, to find time for joy and happiness even in the midst of calamity. The world is ending, we’re all going to die one day, and how we take care of each other in the meantime is all that really matters. By saving each other, we can save ourselves.
Did you learn anything in 2024? Share your lessons in the comments—I’d love to hear them, no matter how small or profound.
💛 Coffee Club
Want to support So Relatable? Treat me to a ☕️ and or buy my zine! 🙌
Venmo: @Christine-Hennessey or PayPal Me.
Can’t afford a contribution? You can also click the ♡ below, forward this to a friend, or share the link on social media. Every little bit helps!
👋 About Me: I’m Chrissy Hennessey, an enthusiastic snacker and native New Yorker living in coastal North Carolina, where I stayed after earning my MFA. My writing has appeared in a decent number of journals, I’ve received fellowships to some fancy residencies, and I’ve written three novels, all currently unpublished. This newsletter is a passion project I started in 2019 as a way to connect with readers and writers, share my creative journey, and build a community. Thank you for being here!
Pay attention to what you pay attention to: such a good lesson and it feels so timely.
Really lovely post Chrissy. I so admire how you felt your feelings and let yourself be in them fully. It was a
reminder that I might benefit from doing the same. Thank you for your honesty about the novel publishing journey. This is the first post I’ve read of yours, but now I’m curious to go back and see if you have some wisdom to share about this in your previous posts.