2025 End-of-Year Reflection

Friends, family, loved ones, 

The sun has set and the night chill is setting in on this last day of 2025. Tomorrow, I will spend the first day of the year not with a hatsuhinode hike in Okinawa, but standing 24-hour duty on the U.S.S. Bataan in Norfolk, Virginia. It has taken a long time for me to feel in the right headspace to write this year's reflection. I'm a solid three months into the long PCS (Permanent Change of Station) transition between commands, between countries. 

Tonight feels appropriate. 

The brief: Still in the Navy. Still single. Still madly in love with Nalerie, now 6. Filled with deep gratitude for an incredible 3rd year in Okinawa and with optimism for this new chapter in Virginia. 

The month-by-month recap: 

January: 

• Had a great birthday gathering at my house to kick off my goal of leaning more into the social space it offered. I continued this with smaller, "fourth Friday" gatherings most of the rest of the year.
• Took a few days of birthday leave to paint and reflect at a cabin at Okuma Beach, a military recreation facility in Oki. There were about two other people there since it was the off-season, and it was best gift to myself. Way better than lines at Tokyo Disney (I can only assume...since I opted for the beach instead of the park). Between my E-o-Y reflection and this early-January retreat, I spent a lot of time focusing on my goals for 2025--less achievement-based and more how to spend my days. 
• Began Nav105 
• Learned that I had been selected for my first-choice orders. I had requested the only ship available in my orders window and, apparently, made a compelling case.  
• Participated as an EMT in a joint American-Japanese multi-command exercise simulating an airplane crash and resulting rescue efforts.

Hatsuhinode hike:
seeing the first sunrise of 2025

TeamLabs: a birthday treat and one of my
favorite parts of Japan

  

Winter getaway at Okuma

February: 

Hmm. I have no specific memories of February, other than grinding on...in the best way. 

March: 

• Bryce & Ronda visited, and we spent a week traipsing around the island, visiting some of my favorite attractions and checking out new ones. My friend Kazuma-san took us to have our first pachinko (a sort of slot-machine gambling) experience, and we spent Bryce & Ronda's big winnings checking out the Japanese McDonald's offerings afterward. It was awesome to share many long convos as we drove all over the island! 
• Completed NAV105 and with it, the 5-course Naval Studies Certificate through the U.S. Naval Community College. 
• At the urging of a professor, spent the last two weeks writing a submmission for the annual Naval Institute's Enlisted Essay Contest. 

Big money right here

April: 

• Won FY25Q2 Sailor of the Quarter. While a fine honor, this one felt less sweet, as I had won two quarters previously and didn't want to give any impression of being self-serving or accolade-seeking in my career.
• Went to observe my friend Kirara's Okinawa dance rehearsal...and was invited to join the group's rehearsals, which I attended whenever possible for the remainder of my time.

May: 

• Took the Space-Available gamble and spent 3 weeks in CO, SD, and ND. My "cushion" time in Seattle allowed me to reconnect with good friend Simon and his wife Chelsea and to meet their two children, as well as to recover a bit from jetlag. My nephew Caleb's graduation was a great opportunity to see all of my family in rapid succession, though we never did have all of us in the same place at the same time. I enjoyed seeing Anne & Evan's place (my birth home!) in CO Springs and road-tripping with them up north. I was also fortunate to spend quality time with numerous friends from Peace Corps and Eckerd. Becky, Mom, & I drove to ND to see the Sutton-Talleys, and I spent several days with Nalerie & her family in their ND home. 
• Learned my essay had won second prize in the essay contest and would be published. 

With the graduate...Augustana bound!

New Coloradans

June: 

• Back in Oki, I started preparing for an August art exhibit...with very little plan. Finally, I got to use my third bedroom as the art studio I had always imagined it to be!
• Explored relationship possibility with a playful, focused Marine. Though we ended the relationship cordially in early July, we had some lovely moments together.
• Paddled in one sayonara race at Ikei island with a new team formed by several Nirai Kanai vets.

Ikei Island beach race!

July: 

• Painting became my main outside-of-work focus. 
• Spent one night camping, SUPping, and sunbathing at Okuma before the Independence Day rush...and several days recovering from the sunburn.
• Received my hard-copy orders to the U.S.S. Bataan (LHD-5), an amphibious assault vessel homeported in Norfolk, Virginia. 
• Received a coin from a visiting Fleet Master Chief on his visit to Okinawa for the essay I wrote in March. Though not yet published, my CO had previously shared the essay with my commmand (oops), and when the CMC asked fellow enlisted how many had read it, I was shocked (and humbled) to see the number of hands raised. Turns out, some people do read their email. 

A work in progress

August: 

• My co-worker (and friend from Fort Sam Houston days) HM3 Emily Boyer and I had our art up in the Camp Foster Library, culminating with a very informal "artist reception," which was an awesome opportunity to bring together many friends and fellow artists. 
• Co-facilitated a four-day, intensive Trauma Healing Kintsugi therapy group, including my introduction to the Gestalt method and the Empty Chair exercise: overall, a powerful experience in my growth as a BHT
• Began the long PCS process and continued to spend many outside-of-work hours completing nine packets of paperwork...from Operational Screening to various award and promotion nominations (at direction of supervisors...not because I'm arrogant). 

My "Whispers of Okinawa" series

Colleagues, friends, and fellow artists
supporting us at our reception!

September: 

• Began plotting out my transfer timeline and plan...a series of decisions, with domino effects, and a series of tasks that all must happen in a very specific order. (Moving back to the States from Cameroon, France, and Zambia was not nearly this complex.) 
• Finished my yearlong participation in "Fitnastics" adult gymnastics classes...still not having mastered a handstand, but having improved a lot in my strength and flexibility, and laughed even more. 
• Saw my essay published as an article in Proceedings, the magazine of the Naval Institute.

October: 

• Zipped to mainland for a last-minute trip prior to Stateside leave and departing permanently. Visited Tokyo, stayed in a capsule hotel, and rode the shinkasen (bullet train) to Osaka, where I stayed with Kazuma-san at his mainland apartment. There, I was introduced to the intrigue and horror of Tobita Shinchi, took a train to his hometown of Shima, tracked down Taylo-Swifto's 13th album in a Tower Records on its (underwhelming) release day, and explored (the lobbies of) Osaka love hotels until late at night. 
• Co-facilitated a weeklong Intensive Outpatient Psychological Program therapy group, my first opportunity to do so since our clinic began offering it a year prior. 
• Turned over my LPO responsibilities...doing as much as I could to have things in a good place, and giving myself grace for the tasks unfinished, the goals unmet, in a job that could never be complete.
• Once again, won the Space-A lottery to make it to SD, KS/MO, and CO for Michael's wedding. He and Megan had a wonderful ceremony and party, and our family made was all in one place at one time for the first time...likely since Anne & Evan's wedding in 2022. A bonus day in Seattle got me (finally) into the Chihuly Garden and Glass Museum--well worth it. 

Kaz and I on our long walk through Osaka

Newlyweds having their first dance

Chihuly's mesmerizing interior design inspo

November: 

• Began the flurry of farewells, including my sayonara paddle with the dragonboat team and my last apartment gathering, planned (somewhat foolishly) for exactly one week before my apartment move-out date. 
• Reenlisted in the Navy, which effectively ended my first contract and started my second...overall, changing my End of Service date from September 2027 to December 2028, which allowed me to accept the 3-year Bataan orders. 
• Received a beautiful resin-art paddle and kokeshi doll from my co-workers over farewell Blue Seal ice cream. 
• Experienced PCS magic and reestablished belief in a loving God because somehow, the furniture disappeared, the shipment was ready on time, and the place was cleaned on time. Next time, I'll space this out a little more.
• Spent a fantastic last weekend soaking in Okinawa's sights and relationships: a 6-mile WOOT run; hike with Bryce's group; SUPping on the ocean; and a dinner party with Amy, David, Kazuma, Rachel, Kirara, Andrea, & Joe. I was deeply grateful to spend my last, "homeless" week with Andrea & Joe at their gorgeous penthouse and with Jacob, Elisha, and Maggie, where I had house/petsat on numerous occasions. 
• Spent a great last week checking out at work, finishing up tasks and turning over any last responsibilities. Completed my Battle Field Acupuncture certification at the eleventh hour, and had several last meals with friends like Laura, Rob, and Dr. Tapps.
• Flew away from Okinawa on a route I now knew well. About 24 hours later, landed in Bismarck and was welcomed home by snuggles with my favorite six-year-old. 
• Spent several days in ND, drove down to SD for Thanksgiving with my family, and began a weeklong (and not very pleasant) quest to buy a car, reactivate my American cell phone number and everything associated it, restart bank accounts, move items from storage into Mom's basement, and try to balance all this "life admin" with meaningful family time.

Sayonara paddle at Kadena Marina

Last DMH enlisted PT: wallyball!

Friends and colleagues who came
to support my reenlistment

Committing to 3 years more as a Sailor
(really, only 1 more than already in my contract)

Final farewell to Christine,
former co-worker & friend

I was awarded a NAM and MOVSM hours before
checking out of NMRTC Okinawa

Last WOOT run

At the summit of the final hike

Last night in Oki, last stroll,
last view from my favorite Sunabe corner

December:

• Settled on a lease for a 2025 Ford Bronco Sport and headed to VA with Dad, including a delightful weekend stopover in MO with Megan and Mike, and of course a stop at Deviant Kava, Wes & Anne's new shop. 
• Checked into the U.S.S. Bataan at the shipyard where it's been in a maintenance period for over a year. Spent two weeks at the Navy Lodge while apartment-hunting. 
• Reconnected with my friend Josh from our infamous corps school class 055, who flew in for a few days.
• Signed a lease for a cozy one-bedroom apartment in a facility with great community amenities (gym! makerspace! shuffleboard/pool/foosball! community events! saltwater wading pool, sunbathing patio, grills, and firepits!) and a nice location...not such a great commute to work, but an 18-minute walk from a quiet beach. 
• Celebrated Christmas with the family of my former Director at NMRTC Okinwawa, who is also now stationed in Norfolk, but at a different command. 

In my new uniform, in front of my new car,
outside the shipyard of my new command

Somewhere in there: 

• Numerous races: 5/10ks, trail run, fun run. I have forgotten when they happened, but happen they did, in addition to hikes, dives, snorkeling, SUP'ping, long walks, moments on the beach, visits to museums. 
• EMT shifts, though often quiet, resulting in 9 calls and about 7 transports, thankfully always with stable patients. 
• Quiet nights reading in bed, podcasts and audiobooks keeping me company as I painted, cooked, and cleaned.
• Farewells to friends and co-workers and the growing sensation that I was starting to see more new faces than known ones and that soon, it would be my time to transition as well.

Ayahashi races - with former dragonboat teammates!

Oki: the cutest ever

When you can't do a beach day...
do a beach hour.

Final EMT shift (before putting on my boots)

Sometimes Stand-Up Paddleboarding
is more sit-down paddleboarding...
under the koinobori for my 3rd Golden Week

We let our hair down for a birthday/farewell
dinner for our department head

Reflection: 

In The Ugly American, a cautionary tale is told of a man who leaves an overseas place motivated by where he's been...but by the time he arrives back in the U.S., these concerns and cares have become almost distant memories to him. That has felt familiar recently, as sometimes Okinawa--my beloved home less than six weeks ago--feels like a hazy mirage. This reflection is an important exercise to remind myself, and to record, the great delights of the past year. In some ways, I haven't yet been able to fully feel and process the emotions of leaving Okinawa. I have often thrilled in the change of life chapters: moving to a new place, starting a new job, making new friends. I am doing all of that now, but I must confess it's with less joy. If I've learned anything about myself, it's that my indecisiveness is rooted in analysis paralysis and that it can be almost debilitating. Whatever clicks in some people to know "this is the one"--be it a car, an apartment, or a relationship--I seem not to possess it. 

This isn't new. When I accepted admission to Harvard in 2002, I stood by a payphone during a student conference, tempted to call my mom and ask her to "please take that postcard out of the mailbox and exchange it with the one for Georgetown." When I enlisted in the Navy, I cried, then went to Chris's house and had him hold me while we listened to The Heard & The Heart's Let's Be Still. This move has felt like a series of decisions made with incomplete information. I'm signing a lease with a mileage limit, before I know what my daily commute will be. I'm choosing an apartment with or without a guest room, without knowing if a guest room would ever get used in the way I hope, whether it would justify the extra expense. I'm buying dishes and sheets, without knowing what my color scheme will be, based on what furniture I end up finding in the future for the price I want to pay. 

This sounds trite, perhaps. Of course we never have complete information. Red car or grey car, what difference does it really make? But these decisions carry weight because in their collective power, they will shape this chapter of my life. Where I live, how much space I have, how much cushion I have in my budget, what activities I take on: these will shape the life that I am crafting. Choice by choice, these are bricks I am mortaring into the house I am building without a blueprint. There is gravity in these decisions, and while I aim to enjoy the process and see opportunity everywhere, I have found the endeavor less whimsical and breezy than in the past. 

In many ways, I find myself amazed by my younger self. I did all this before...with limited financial means, without the support (though also without the paperwork burden) of the Navy, with more uncertainty and less trepidation. How often I am fueled by confidence that I can do something because I did it before...but those first times, I was fueled, perhaps, by naivete and faith. I moved to San Diego in 2009 with $1000 or so in savings, a sublet I found on Craigslist, and a desire to learn to surf. I had no job, no car, and no real plan...and in the rosy view of memory, I loved every minute of it. 

That beautiful, reflective January weekend in a cozy cabin in Okuma helped me set some goals for 2025, because (even if I've forgotten now) I often faced the same choice paralysis in Okinawa, as I reported last year. There were so many opportunities that no matter what I was doing, it was easy to think of all the things I wasn't. So I set some measurable parameters: Finish NAV105. Create art for an exhibit. Volunteer at least 5 hours/month in the Emergency Department; have a monthly gathering at my house; play piano weekly; go diving X times, hiking Y times, running Z times, and so on. I didn't hit all the marks, of course, but they provided a structure. They gave me a target, and a way to feel success and know how to divide up my time. Sometimes I was at the ED at 0200 on a Sunday or at 2200 after a full workday in clinic, but it was worth it to me to meet that goal of 5 monthly hours of skills sustainment. When I missed a hike to go on a WOOT (Women Out on Trails) run, I felt at peace with it, because I had already decided that I wanted to do a little of both in my year. 

I don't feel quite ready to set those goals here, to write those parameters. The place is too new, too fresh. There's a stack of PQSes (personnel qualifications standards) to do at work, along with completing the inevitable check-in sheet (which I'm told rarely gets finished but gets handed out at every command, anyway). The schedule is wonky due to holiday leave, so I haven't established a workout routine (and will trust my CO to help us all do that, given new requireents from our Secretary to officially incorporate physical training in every workday). Other than running around checking out apartments, treasure-hunting for household goods at thrift shops, and trying not to die in highway traffic, I haven't yet explored much of what the Seven Cities have to offer. I've had an address for only a week, so I don't even have a library card yet, much less a book club or a group of friends. It all feels full of promise, but still very, very untasted. 

A few years ago, I was introduced to the idea of having a word for the new year. Rather than a resolution, this serves as a sort of theme. For 2025, it was healing. I love this word because it is both an internal experience and an external action. We say that a wound heals--that is, the wound itself becomes restored. We say that a doctor heals -- that the doctor's actions enable a wound belonging to someone else to heal. I wanted both for 2025: to heal, internally, from the pain that I described in last year's post, and to be a source of healing to others, through my work and growth as an EMT and a BHT. It was a good choice, and I feel confident and grateful to say I have, indeed, healed, in both senses of the word. 

I'm still searching for my word for 2026. 

I know that I want to create. Painting for the August exhibit reminded me of how important it is to have a creative outlet, to stretch my imagination and my skills. Writing and painting and choreographing is labor--it's not fun and relaxing, like a bubble bath with a glass of wine and a film. But I know that I have thoughts and ideas that are begging to be explored, that only will be when I actively make the space and time for them to be released. (Read Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic for fascinating notions about where ideas come from, and how they move.) I had an album's worth of song lyrics that never fully congealed, never made it out of my mind, in 2024. As I go into 2026, I want to become a ship Sailor, with the magnitude of knowledge to learn as a corpsman, BHT, damage controlman, and overall sailor of the seas. And I want to maintain and improve my fitness in new ways. But I also want to continue fueling the parts of myself that are outside of the Navy: a scholar, a playwright, an artist. A believer. Shel Silverstein's Invitation once hung on my wall: 

 If you are a dreamer, come in 

 If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, 

 A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer... 

 If you're a pretender, come sit by the fire 

For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. 

Come in! 

Come in! 

I always thought of it as being an invitation to others, but as I sit here tonight, I want to extend that invitation to all the parts of me. I want to kindle a fire that welcomes in all the facets of my being, that gives them space to weave flax-golden tales, together. 

In 2014, when I lived in Portland, Oregon, I really struggled to know what I was building. I remember describing the sensation that I was standing in a metaphorical harbor, waiting for my ship to come in, but that I feared I would turn my head and miss it. (It's poignant, perhaps, that eleven years later, I found my literal ship.) In my last days of that chapter, in the last gathering at my apartment, in fact, I remember it hitting me: I've been building community. 

New to this place, now, I want to do the same. To build community and connection. As the only Behavioral Health Technician on my ship, I want to play a critical role in helping others to weather the storms, to thrive in this space. I'm so grateful already for the medical department staff, who have welcomed, supported, and inspired me. We are in good hands. 

As I reconnect with the U.S., I don't want to forget Okinawa and the people I knew there. I want to hold it in my heart and to maintain some of those bonds from this side of the great Pacific pond. I want to remember the beautiful complexity I navigated as an American service member in that place, with that history. As I transition back into this country, I want to remember the words of Amanda Gorman in "The Hill We Climb": 

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.

Somehow we do it.

Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply 

unfinished...

 

We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.

           In every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people 

          diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful.

          When the day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid.

          The new dawn blooms as we free it.

          For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.

 

          If only we’re brave enough to be it. 

Wishing you a dawn of 2026 filled with light, and the bravery both to see it and to be it. 

Love, 

Andrea