before we begin again.
what are the lessons from 2025?
Each winter, as days turn cold and short, gardeners put their plots to bed.
They harvest the final herbs and greens that persist through fall, cut down withered plants to feed the bugs and worms that improve the soil, and add a thick layer of mulch to protect the earth from erosion and keep it warm for when freezes come.
Once the garden beds are tucked in, gardeners review the growing season that has ended. Which tomatoes were deliciously sweet and juicy and just a little bit tart? Which peppers were hot, but not too hot, and kept fruiting into the chilly days of fall? Which melons and squash were most vulnerable to critters or diseases, and when did the lettuce start wilting in the summer sun?
When the garden is at rest and this reflection is complete, gardeners thumb through seed catalogues and turn their hard-earned wisdom into what-to-grow wishlists.
As we stand at the edge of 2026, I feel the same pull – to look back on the year gone by before issuing resolutions to shape the one ahead.
Too often, December crashes into January and we rush toward reinvention without reflection. It makes sense. It’s what society expects. It’s the drumbeat we’re expected to dance to.
We’re more likely to hear “What are your resolutions for next year?” than “What did this year teach you?”
Before we begin again, let’s learn from the year that’s gone by.
Our culture knows how to mark the big endings. High school and college graduations. Retirement parties. Funerals. Even divorce parties are a thing. But what about all the chapters in between? We deserve to recognize and glean insights from all the endings along the way. And the year’s final days give us that chance.
Two questions guide my own reflection: “What gave me energy this year?” and “What depleted it”?
I drew energy from three intense experiences with people trying to make the world a better place through photography, financial activism, and local engagement.
Live music, comedy, and theater here in DC boosted my energy, too.
What weighed on me was hearing social justice focused clients brace for politically driven funding cuts and immigrant business owners fear being caught up in the Trump administration’s mass deportation machine.
So what do I learn from this? A few lessons – some new, some reclaimed – rose to the surface:
While I am more of an introvert than people think, I open up easily when the connection is real. I crave conversations with people who share my values and can help me see the world from a different perspective.
Art nourishes me – both when I am behind the camera and sitting in the audience. I was reminded this year how visual arts can mobilize people around social issues, from a local documentary about the racial wealth gap in DC to a Broadway show about family business and immigration. I’m excited to collaborate with artists who challenge extractive systems that concentrate wealth and help us imagine an economy rooted in shared prosperity.
Local action has been the most grounding response to injustice, where I can deepen relationships and see the impact.
What questions might help you understand 2025 before setting intentions for 2026?
Here are some thought starters:
What were my greatest joys and greatest sorrows?
What went according to plan and what went off the rails?
How am I different today than I was a year ago?
Taking the time to start with reflection makes resolutions more real, more relevant, more…you.
This kind of looking back isn’t just personal work – it’s something companies and teams can do, too. If your organization wants support drawing out lessons learned from this past year, let’s see if it makes sense to work together.
And if any of your personal or professional reflections or resolutions touch the work we do at The Marigold Effect – investing, advising, and storytelling for social impact – I’m here and would love to connect.
Until then, I hope you can put your proverbial garden to bed and get some well-deserved rest this winter.
Pooja