For years I’ve aimed for 52 books and never hit it. My new year started on Dec 1, and six days in I just finished book three: Bukowski’s Post Office. I’m adding his work to a project where I read all of an author’s novels in the order they were published; so far I’ve completed Camus, Steinbeck, Orwell, and Rand. 2025-26 might just be my year.

The “Big Dark” is reaching its peak in Seattle with the impending winter solstice only a few weeks away. What I love most about this time of year is the abundance of opportunity and time for introspection, for being present with things exactly as they are. I’m not certain whether the world around me slows or what I’m perceiving as external is merely a mirror reflecting my own mind.

Rumi wrote about letting yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love. I’ve been thinking about what the stronger pull is for me, and I think it comes from what I’ve received most generously from others: forgiveness when I’ve failed, empathy when I’ve struggled, care when I needed it. That abundance shapes what I want to give back. My hope for the new year is to let that pull guide me.

For the past decade, December 1 has been my New Year: quiet enough to think, plan, and reset without the noise of everyone else doing the same.

I sympathize with Gen Z’s exhausted disengagement (aka the stare). It’s unsurprising, even understandable, to withdraw emotionally in a labor market that failed them and paywalled opportunity behind debt. I wonder what it’d feel like if kindness weren’t a job requirement but something we desired to authentically offer from real connection.

I recently started building recruiting.dev, a free resource on early-stage hiring. Designed for bold builders—founders, operators, and recruiters alike. Why free? A rising tide raises all ships.

Made my first PR to an open source project today. Small contribution to a small project, similar to my own. Their work helped me, and things came full circle when I could give something back. I have a new understanding and appreciation for why people use the word “community” in open source.

I set up a workflow on my Zo Computer today so I can send it text messages from my phone and have them land here as notes. This is the first time I’ve had a public space to share short-form, off-the-cuff thoughts since I deleted social media years ago. The audience is tiny compared to my long-gone feeds (is there anybody out there?), but it still feels like a connective experience.