Year of Discovery (Week 38: Loss, Holidays, and 2021)

Audrey Cheng
6 min readDec 31, 2021

This last week, I COVID-cautiously explored Oxford and spent Christmas at a friend’s in Devon, a southwestern part of the UK. I experienced my first ‘cold’ holiday after spending the last number of years in the Southern Hemisphere’s summer in December. The change was a welcome one, as the cold, rainy days brought back childhood memories when a step into the brisk outdoor air made it clear it was the holiday season.

Over the weekend, I quickly grew fond of Devon’s rolling hills and reflective beaches, time spent around the fireplace, and general holiday cheer with friends. It made me appreciate family traditions, ‘being’ without ‘doing’, and the love that can be found in home-cooked meals. It made me think about ultimately, what’s most important in life.

A Beach in Devon, December 26, 2021

Today, I’m sharing a reflection on the holidays and 2021.

The Holidays and Loss

For some, the holidays are a time of closeness and connection to commemorate another year around the sun. It’s a time for families to reunite, sometimes after a whole year or years of being apart. It’s a time when our year’s priorities and work grinds to a halt to allow for time to recharge, rest and reflect. It’s a time for slipping away from our healthier habits and falling prey to our cravings, which mirrors the discomfort or comfort we feel within ourselves and with the people around us.

This year, the holidays are also a time of reflection on loss. Over 3.3M people died globally of COVID alone in 2021 and many families are reconnecting over the holidays without some members present. This change creates a new dynamic within the emotions that flurry through the holiday season.

One such loss this holiday is that of Californian author Joan Didion, who passed away on December 23. One of my favorite books I read this year was ‘The Year of Magical Thinking’, which she wrote following the sudden passing of her husband in 2003. In it, she writes:

Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends. — Joan Didion

While she recounts her husband’s death, she poetically and realistically describes her experience coping with the grief that followed. She writes about the heartbreak and tragedy, the numbness and the anger. She writes about her loss not just in the person she shared a life with, but her loss of herself and an important part of her identity.

We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all. — Joan Didion

So while this holiday brought a lot of warmth to me, it also reminded me of the changing nature of life. The rising and falling of our lives, thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and more. A friend of mine passed away this holiday season and I was yet again reminded of impermanence and how little we know about tomorrow and the days and years to come. However much I can plan for the future, there are more unknowns than knowns. The most I can do to find peace within the constant change is to live by the wisdom and know that this very moment is all I have.

Last weekend, as I looked into the fireplace with its bright embers, I sensed everything around me reflect the glow and ashes of the wood. Now, as I look outside of this window in Brussels and see the bright, clear sky and a vivid sun, I’m reminded of the grey, rainy sky that was on display early this morning. Everything is changing and being present in this moment — over the holidays with friends and family — is the most important thing I can do now.

2021

Looking back on 2021, this has been an incredibly enlightening year for me. I wrapped up my time as CEO of Moringa School, started my Year of Discovery (which hosted some of the most mind-bending conversations, literature, and research of my life), and was fortunate to travel to a few places through conferences, fellowships, and more. I slowly decoupled my identity from my work, gave myself the space to sit in nothingness, and rediscover from a blank slate. I grappled with my identity, learned about the experiences of Taiwanese immigrants and minorities around the world, and decided how I want to engage with and represent my Taiwanese identity in the future. I immersed myself in different political systems and pushed my own assumptions and prejudices to create space for a broader, more compassionate understanding of different societies. I challenged my understanding of the ‘us vs them’ paradigm and the ego. I dove into numerous books that transported me into different times, various generations, and new, profound, and often challenging perspectives. I learned about the difference between awareness, intellectualization, and lived wisdom. I learned about the wealth that exists in this world and reaffirmed my belief that money is a tool and not an end-state goal.

On a day-to-day basis, I experienced the highs of curiosity and clarity and lows of anxiety and confusion. I had slow days and fast days and those in between. I trusted the process, even when the process itself wasn’t as clear as I wanted it to be. I had lightbulb moments that I couldn’t have planned for.

I experienced this year with many people who deeply inspire me and am ending this year incredibly grateful for the energy of new friendships, the comfort of the old ones, and the interconnectedness of humans.

Some lessons I learned this year that I hope to bring into next year:

  • Always remember to be compassionate to myself and to others, regardless of what situation it is. Everyone is going through their own internal battles and fighting with their demons (often habits of their minds) every day, so be kind. Don’t take anything personally as someone’s anger, frustration or negative emotions are a reflection of their own battles that have yet to be won inside.
  • Holding onto a liking or disliking of anything — an object, a person, action, thought, etc — perpetuates cycles of suffering. Reacting from an agitated mind (craving or aversion) also perpetuates suffering.
  • No one outside of ourselves and decrease our suffering. We each need to do the work within ourselves.
  • See things as they are, not as they were or what I think they will be.
  • Finding the right vantage point to gain perspective is critical. Sometimes the best thing to do in any situation is to move onto the balcony, observe and see where I can add the most value.
  • People can change for the better — and especially when we let go of our perceptions of them. It’s often the most difficult to accept the change in the people closest to us, but by pushing ourselves to do so, we’re creating freedom for those people as they continue reinventing themselves.
  • For a happier, healthier life, having a general direction with a broader purpose and a clear set of values that I live by every day is more important than breaking myself to achieve goals (that ironically, I often set for myself).
  • Question and experiment with everything that matters to me. In order for something to stick, I need to have experienced it myself rather than just hearing about someone else’s experience.

What are your lessons from 2021? I’m sending lots of love to everyone as we move into the new year.

What I’m reading this week: Klara and the Sun

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Audrey Cheng

Taiwanese American. Curious about ideas and solutions that support human flourishing.