2025 is the year of writing prompts.
Instead of doing a year in review, I’m excited to embark on a journey to rediscover my love of writing. Therefore in 2025, come along with me as I build a repertoire of writing prompts meant to inspire curiosity and reignite passion.
Last year was one of introspection—so much so that I lost interest in the world around me. I kept digging in to figure out why the work I once found so interesting, the work that kept my curiosity alive and encouraged, felt draining. Simple grant prompts sent me on spirals straight into writer’s block. In interviews, I would describe myself as more of a copy editor than a writer. I explained myself as the expert yet sought validation from my colleagues to justify my ideas. My process began to slow, depending on time constraints to encourage a stress-induced frenzy where there was no choice but to finish. I needed my back against a wall to see real progress. While I relish in a new patience for myself to gather adequate data, suss out authentic solutions, and trek down rabbit holes with conviction, I’ve lost excitement for the life around me.
Therefore, in 2025, I need to dig myself out.
No longer will I accept introspection as a solution to my hesitancy to write. No longer will I blame myself for what I can’t control. No longer will I allow other priorities to rise above my writing.
Writing is as dance was - an art form that needs practice.
So, in 2025, each day I will take a moment to write. To think creatively and weave together stories that draw the world, observe something new, and spark an awareness that makes each part of this lovely experience romantic again.
Did you know that our house on Bainbridge Island is a hot-bed for birds, zooming at high speeds from the trees out front stretching miles into the sky to the trees out back, now in the winter months coated in moss? The birds chirp and sing on rainy days, taking advantage of our dog-less backyard as the worms slither up to the earth's surface. I often spend my days either at my desk, leaning on our kitchen counter, in the backyard with our dogs, or heaving up the Bainbridge hills on runs, listening to stories of dragons, fairies, and wild romances. Even as I get to watch so much around me, relish in our proximity to nature, and navigate a unique commute into Seattle, I’ve struck an obsession with something that’s not real. I’d rather listen to a fantasical story than feel like I’m living one.
The world that’s been quite literally crashing into our house, awakening with the dawn, and changing with each season has been the world I’ve ignored the most.
So, in 2025, I will observe. I will listen. I will reflect. Because there’s too much to look forward to and so many moments worth remembering.
