The Echoes of My Year's Lessons were Found in Tarot Cards at a Karaoke Bar

2024 feels both endless and fleeting—a leap year stretched long yet passing in the blink of an eye. Like 2020, it’s been a year of ups and downs, but the overall forecast is (cautiously) optimistic.

And just like that, we’re at the end of another year. So much has happened that I can’t help but wonder if all this chaos and transformation are signs of the Age of Aquarius. I waited until the last minute to write this, even though the story had been forming in my head for weeks. Perhaps it’s because the lessons of 2024 haven’t fully settled yet, still rippling through my mind like echoes.

The world is on fire. Some of my most admired figures turned out to be deeply flawed, and I nearly gave up on a lot of things. But amidst all the chaos, two things got me through: the good people around me and astrology.

Astrology became a quiet companion. My feed constantly fed me predictions for my sign—generalized, yes, but oddly reassuring. I didn’t make decisions solely based on the stars, but their insights felt like small, steady nudges.

At the start of the year, I attended public talks by Nobel-winning economists and thinkers. Their perspectives, while occasionally inspiring, often felt out of touch with Thailand’s realities. Even so, I left with new connections and a sense of purpose. I’ve always believed in starting the year with something meaningful so that the rest might follow suit.

(My motto for January was: Ask hard questions. It's much better to know than to wonder. It resonated until the end of the year. )

February and March were filled with momentum. I got a Barbie prize pack I won in December 2023, I negotiated a lot, and I was also accepted into a fellowship. By the end of the fellowship's six-month duration, I needed to complete a social action project. Astrology didn’t push me to act early, but the forecast for my sign emphasized persistence and hard work. 2024 promised rewards—but only for those willing to endure its trials.

By July, I was on the brink of burnout. Deadlines piled up, timelines felt chaotic, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of isolation. It felt like I was drowning.

August brought a shift. Though I wasn’t entirely out of the woods, I began to see the finish line. With the help of volunteers, my social action project was completed. By September, I felt a weight lift. It was as though I had survived my storm. Strangely, the astrological forecast aligned: my sign was “nearly out of the woods.”

By September, things had transformed. I was named Fellow of the Year, began an exciting internship, and met an online friend I’ve known for ten years from the Moviepilot days. I also won tickets to see a play with my friends. The magic of it all felt surreal, like the universe was giving me a nod.

October and November were quieter, a time to tie up loose ends. I hosted my annual dormitory party, “Hallowmas,” and returned home to focus on my internship.

Then came December, a month packed with milestones. I reunited with a friend I met five years ago at a conference in Amsterdam and reflected on how much we’d both grown. I graduated from my first university, celebrated at a community theater’s Christmas party, and ended the night at a karaoke bar with newfound acquaintances.

It was there, in that unassuming karaoke bar, that a tarot reading gave me clarity I hadn’t realized I needed. One of my companions pulled out a deck of cards, and after watching him read for others, I decided to ask for my turn.

His reading was blunt but strangely comforting. My cards revealed that I might never feel truly happy or content, a thought that would have unsettled me in the past. But as I reflected, I realized it made sense—not just because of the cards, but because of life itself. Happiness is fleeting, a transient emotion meant to be felt in moments rather than held onto forever. Contentment, on the other hand, is a state of being, and humans are rarely ever fully content. We’re always striving, always reaching for more.

And that’s okay. The lesson wasn’t about achieving constant happiness or satisfaction—it was about staying grounded in the midst of it all.

The tarot reading mirrored the themes of my year: ambition, vulnerability, and the balance between dreams and reality. It taught me to embrace my ambition and take risks, even when the odds felt stacked against me. It reminded me to be vulnerable, because that’s what resonates with people and connects us in meaningful ways. It's especially true when I realized that I won two Vocal Media Writing Challenges this year, where I shared things that— strangely — resonated with readers.

December has flown by, and the new year is just around the corner. I feel more confident than I ever have, having lived through 2024 with fewer breakdowns than I thought possible. I was booked and busy, navigating challenges with resilience and a touch of guidance from the stars.

The tarot reader’s words linger with me: I may never feel perfectly content or endlessly happy, but that’s not the point of life. What matters is being present in the moment, letting emotions flow without holding on too tightly. The present is a gift, and in its fleeting beauty, there is so much to learn.

As I step into 2025, I carry the echoes of this year’s lessons: to stay daring, to embrace the unknown, and to trust in myself. People will come and go, and the future remains uncharted, but with conviction and the support of a few good people, I know I’ll be okay.

And maybe, just maybe, the stars agree.