Welcome to episode 174 of the Piano Pantry Podcast—and the final episode of 2025.
If you’re new around here, this past year marked a shift in the podcast’s rhythm. Instead of publishing weekly, I moved to releasing episodes twice a month, and am happy to say it turned out to be a really good life move.
I’ve been an avid podcast listener for as long as I can remember, and I’ve noticed something about myself: even when I love a podcast, I eventually burn out on weekly listening. I actually find myself more excited when there’s a little breathing room—when a new episode feels like something to look forward to. My hope is that you’ve experienced that here as well.
If you want to hear more about that idea, jump back to episode 173, What’s Working This Season, a buddy episode I recorded earlier this month with Christina Whitlock of the Beyond Measure Podcast.
Today’s episode is about small, gentle ways to reflect on the year behind us and consider what’s ahead—without diving into the kind of New Year’s goal-setting that can feel heavy or overwhelming.
It’s the holidays, your time is precious, so let’s get started.
Before we get into the how, I want to share a quick story, so stick with me.
Ever since my husband and I have been married, he’s kept a simple but consistent practice of tracking his free time. For years, he’s used handwritten, spiral-bound notebooks to jot down what he works on in the evenings and on weekends. He always has some sort of project going—sometimes big, sometimes small.
Right now, for example, he’s juggling four major projects:
- Installing solar energy on our house
- Repairing an airplane engine
- Repairing our tractor engine
- Painting our little Cessna 172 airplane
You might be wondering what in the world he does. He’s actually a hobby pilot, and in his day job, he’s a Salesforce Technical Architect for a company based out of D.C.
You know how easy it is for life to move along, and suddenly you look back on the past month and wonder where your time went? That’s what motivated him to grab a simple notebook and write down just one or two lines each day about how he used his time.
It’s very similar to one-line-a-day journaling.
Now, I’ll be honest—this is where I learned something about myself. I’m really bad at that kind of journaling. I’ve tried keeping a physical journal, and I’ve tried digital versions in Notion, but after several years, I let it go. It just didn’t stick for me.
Still, it’s a beautiful practice. He has stacks of notebooks you can flip through and quickly see what was happening in life—at least project-wise.
He’s since moved this system into Notion using databases, which is both exciting and a little sad, now that the handwritten notebooks have stopped.
I’m telling you all of this for three reasons.
First, because it’s a meaningful way to document life and look back over time.
Second, because it inspired me to try something different that worked better for me.
And third, because it’s a reminder that there’s no single right way to reflect on your life. Sometimes we try things, and they don’t work—and that’s okay. What matters most is the intention, not the format.
Before I share what worked better for me, let’s pause for a moment and talk about why all of this even matters.
I actually already mentioned the biggest reason if you were paying attention. Life moves quickly. It’s easy to look back and feel like time slipped through your fingers. It’s also easy to focus on all the things you didn’t do—or to compare yourself to others and feel like you’re behind.
What we often forget is that so much growth happens quietly. It’s part of a longer process, and it doesn’t always announce itself.
Maybe you didn’t know how to teach a rote piece at the beginning of the year, and now it feels more natural. Maybe lesson planning felt chaotic in August, and by November, you’d found a rhythm that works. Or maybe you’re not very adventurous in the kitchen—but you added five new recipes to your rotation this year.
These things matter. They add up.
Life isn’t only about big accomplishments. It’s also about the small moments.
Maybe you started doing puzzles again or worked up the courage to attend your first national conference or did something that scared you—that turned into a gift.
Those are the moments worth noticing.
So here’s how I like to approach marking time in this season. Like my husband’s practice inspired me, I hope it will inspire you in your own way.
During my two-week winter break, I like to set aside roughly a half-day to intentionally look back and look ahead. It’s not rigid or structured—it’s more like creating space.
A few specific practices include:
- I look back through my calendar and photos and jot down meaningful moments. Sometimes I choose one photo from each month to create a snapshot of the year and share it to social media for fun.
- I review my list of big projects so I can remind myself of everything I did do—rather than focusing on what didn’t get finished.
- I look back at the books I read and take a moment to briefly remember plots and how they made me feel. It’s a time to notice any patterns in my reading habits and consider shifts I might want to make in my reading year ahead.
Once I’ve looked back, I gently turn my attention forward.
And I’ll say this clearly: I am firmly team “no traditional goal-setting.” I tried it early in my professional life, and it just doesn’t work for me—especially when I’m staring down an entire year.
Big numeric goals like losing a certain amount of weight, growing an email list, or creating a set number of resources tend to overwhelm me.
If that approach works for you, that’s wonderful. But I’ve found that even when I do set goals, shorter time frames like quarterly or monthly feel much more manageable.
Instead, I’ve started setting what I call “Little Life Intentions.”
I love that phrase because it’s gentle. It’s not about strict metrics—it’s about direction, and it leaves room for life to happen.
Here are a few examples from past years:
- Make an effort to see Drew’s parents more often.
- Be more intentional with my skincare routine and product choices.
- Hone in on my favorite recipes instead of constantly trying new ones.
- Pay more attention to color in my wardrobe.
- Have someone over for a meal once a month.
Not only are these soft goals (and I use that word lightly), but I find these statements far more enjoyable to create than a traditional goals list. I glance at them a couple of times a month—not to measure myself against them, but simply to remember what I was hoping to move toward.
I have found that a list of 8-10 Little Life Intentions is a comfortable, natural number to settle on each year. It is not exhaustive of every area of life, but I do try to include at least one personal, professional, physical, and spiritual thing. Although most lean toward personal, as you heard in my example list.
I will also say that this list does not include professional projects, such as the updates I’ve been doing recently to many of the products in the Piano Pantry shop. That, for me, is a separate area to consider.
Besides little life intentions and overarching projects for my studio and for Piano Pantry, I also like to jot down books I’d like to read in the coming year. I keep a list of some of my favorite authors and try to make sure I include at least one book from each of them in my list for the year.
At least 25% of what I hope to read inevitably gets put off until the following year, but that’s because I also enjoy leaving room for random books I come across and am excited to read in the moment they cross my path. The same often goes for product and resource ideas and even podcast episodes as the year progresses.
So here’s my encouragement to you:
Even if you can’t carve out a half day during the holidays, see if you can find a quiet hour. Some reflection and intention-setting is better than none. This isn’t about productivity—it’s about pausing and not letting life rush by unnoticed.
May you have a beautiful holiday season, friends. I look forward to being back in your ear next year with more practical and sustainable advice for living your studio-teacher life.
If, after your reflection time, you’ve found this podcast to be an encouragement, I’d love to invite you to join me on Patreon—a small way to give this podcast a hug from afar. Visit pianopantry.com/patreon to learn more. A special shout-out to supporter Rebecca Sizelove for joining in to support this work.
One final thing! Don’t end the year without hitting that subscribe button so your podcast player will automatically download the next episode in 2026.
See you then.
