I’m traveling at the end of the year, which somehow makes the whole season feel even busier. Busy enough that I barely have time to sit down and write any kind of year-end reflection.

A new job took me longer than expected to settle into—or maybe I was just lazy. More than once, I found myself thinking back to the beginning of 2011: the same kind of rush, the same uncertainty, the same feeling of not quite knowing what I was doing.

All in all, 2015 was another year of not accomplishing very much. I didn’t even make many plans at the start of it. But when I look back over the scattered, ordinary things that filled it, a lot of them were surprisingly memorable.

My K3, which had been with me for five years, finally died. I had to replace it with a KPW2—lit screen, no physical buttons. I think I ended up reading a little more than before.

One of the happiest moments early in the year was going to see Elizabeth together, visiting the Shanghai Museum, and coming home with a little teddy bear. I also bought a new watch, the same model as before, though it didn’t mean anything more than that.

One day at the office, someone suddenly dropped an entire box of pudding on me. The mood that created was, honestly, pretty wonderful.

In Beijing, I had a very grand French meal that turned out to be unbelievably bad.

I coordinated a major project for the first time. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t a disaster either.

The photos from Egypt looked beautiful. Shanghai’s dampness was maddening.

I finally got used to eating Japanese food.

Three years later, I went back to Fuzhou and walked through the same park as before. Everything had changed.

I bought a new camera and retired the DSLR I had used for four years. Once again, that same feeling: everything changes, people change.

There was the most depressing flight delay I can remember. Shenzhen and Hong Kong were both beautiful.

Kota Kinabalu was easy and pleasant, and I got to see an old friend again. It was also my first trip abroad.

The natural history museum was worth the visit. Wuzhen, meanwhile, had none of the romance people like to imagine.

I got connected with the Shanghai group and soon after ended up on a long road trip that was genuinely fun.

I flew more than ten times in a single month.

A palace in the snow was stunning. And, apparently, I blacked out from drinking once again.

...

There were probably more moments than these, and I’ve already forgotten some of them.

I wrote very few journal entries this year, but writing itself has somehow become more serious to me. I stopped posting so often on Moments. I stopped expecting reactions from other people. After separating my work QQ from my personal one, I realized there were only a handful of people I spoke to repeatedly. The radius of my social circle seemed to shrink by half.

I read 30 books and watched 40 films, about the same as last year. I didn’t spend much time on academic or professional material, and I didn’t finish the exam I was supposed to take. Whether it’s work or study, I need to push myself harder. A health check also turned up a few minor issues, so I need to pay more attention to that too.

This year I went to 20 cities: Beijing, Fuzhou, Shenzhen, Hong Kong, Kota Kinabalu, Hangzhou, Zhengzhou, Lanzhou, Xining, Dunhuang, Jiayuguan, Zhangye, Harbin, Nanchang, Wuhan, Chengdu, Yangzhou, Zhenjiang, Nanjing, and Wuzhen. I doubt I’ll ever top that again.

As for love, it stayed tangled from the beginning of the year to the end. Maybe this is what a fool’s persistence looks like: even failure can feel stirring enough, if only because it moves you yourself.

As always, for the new year, I hope my mother and I both stay healthy.

I hope I can become a more diligent version of myself and live more simply.

To keep my heart steady in solitude, to guard my words among people, and to keep trying—and sticking with—a few things that are genuinely interesting.

Hope your road is a long one, full of adventure, full of discovery.