2024 was absolutely incredible for me.

I never imagined I would tour through 6 countries (regions) and 24 cities, both overseas and domestically. I can barely believe that 2023 marked my first time traveling abroad. Thanks to ICA (though I couldn’t attend due to visa issues) and IAMCR for providing the opportunities, I gave my English presentation in Lyon, France, and afterward took a whirlwind trip through Switzerland. I still remember feeling nervous, awkward, and helpless—too shy to speak English with foreigners or in public—as I encountered everything with wide-eyed innocence. There was one typical scene rooted in my memories. On the plane, I strained my ears for any hint of the flight attendant—the soft rumble of the cart or the trickle of pouring water. I listened intently to their conversations with other passengers, rehearsing in my mind how I would answer their inevitable “Would you like A or B?” questions.

But everything changed in 2024. I not only went through customs five more times than last year but also spent four months overseas. I’m grateful to Australia, the University of Sydney, and especially my home university for giving me this precious opportunity. Despite being swamped with schoolwork and the ticking clock of job hunting ringing incessantly above my head, I deeply cherish the life I lived in Sydney.

I felt as if I had been suddenly thrown into a vast emptiness—far away from the rat race, keeping a distance from the crowd, and shutting the door to a world full of overwhelming emotions and information. Like Simmel’s concept of “the stranger,” living as a foreigner made me feel incredibly free and content. What I cared about suddenly shrunk, leaving me with only myself and, extremely specifically, the nearby. I lived by myself, making countless tiny decisions every day—from choosing between blue or red lids for A2 milk to finding the perfect spot for watching the sunset. For the first time, I truly learned the lesson of living my life. I discovered how to listen to my heart and maintain an inner dialogue, regardless of the chaos in the external world—a practice I’m striving to maintain now that I’m back in Beijing. My friend used the word peaceful to describe the vibe when she finally saw me after the 4-month separation.

I believe nature has become my best solution to find peace of mind. So I went to parks a lot. I would take the train to Hyde Park, walk an hour to Centennial Park, take a bus to Sydney Park, and regularly walk the ten-minute path to Victoria Park. Tonight, I sat by the Hai River in Tianjin, feeling the cold air breathing with the freshly frozen river surface—those scenes rushed into my mind in one moment.

Witnessing Darling Harbour embracing its city with mild waves, fireworks, and melodies of violins. Watching dogs chasing each other across endless grass beneath infinite skies. Hiking along coastlines and taking thousands of pictures at each spot. Waiting for a day’s sunset, no matter success or not, content to stay till the night sank into my heart.

I cherish my life in that foreign land so deeply that it sometimes frustrates me. The world brims with stunning places waiting for each person to explore and discover. Why hadn’t I realized this before? Why aren’t we encouraged to explore more? I can barely remember the last sunset I saw in Beijing—after all, like many others, I usually leave work after dark.

That’s why I feel both lucky and proud reflecting on this past year. At the end of 2022, I grappled with questions about the tension between personal journeys and society’s relentless pace, finding no clear answers and feeling a lingering unease. This year, I finally feel grounded. I am so grateful for what I own for now.

Finally, I’d love to depict another side of my life as the end of the private celebration: BOULDERING. I tried indoor bouldering for the first time this January at Banana Climbing, not far from the university. It was freezing that day when I rode my electronic bicycle with Mandy in the back seat, feeling both fresh and nervous. I showed absolutely NO talent for bouldering that day, failing on the easiest V0 routes. (I didn’t fully realize how true this was until June when I brought a friend who was new to bouldering but completed all the V1 routes on his first try. For context—it took me nearly two months to achieve that same level.)

However, my lack of natural talent never hindered my progress. Instead, it transformed into a steady inner drive to keep improving at bouldering, while also serving as a mirror that reflected my personality. I used to strive to be the best, wanting to achieve first place in everything I did. However, sports were an exception; whenever faced with physical education exams, I couldn’t help but frown. Therefore, during my undergraduate years, I took up fitness with a nearly obsessive drive to prove myself, hoping to erase the label of being athletically inept. Yet, I never found joy in the process of bodybuilding.

Bouldering, however, was completely different. It forced me to confront my weaknesses head-on. My progress was noticeably slower compared to others—I often had to invest more time and effort to reach the same level. Yet every effort I put in showed genuine results. For example, after failing and falling several times, I would suddenly make it to the top. I’m so crazy about that process.

This March, I took up bouldering officially and seriously, climbing twice a week. It took me nearly two months to complete all the V1 routes at Camp 4 (where I met my introductory coach, whom I was as afraid of as I was of my homeroom teacher), and another six months to master V2 (slow progress, perhaps, but that’s just my journey). I have visited nine bouldering gyms in Beijing and continued bouldering even as I moved between cities. I climbed at four different gyms in Sydney, where I met a lifelong climbing friend, Taylor, and visited climbing gyms in Shanghai, Osaka, Gaoxiong, and Chiang Mai during my trips. Such a cool number, isn’t it? I’m incredibly proud of dedicating as much time as I could. I know I’ll continue to grow stronger with each step I make on the wall.

I think I’ll call it my 2024 and my sincere celebration of myself.

Calm yet Turbulent, Ordinary yet Challenging, Sincere yet Not Great, and Not Overly Concerned with Society.

Having been disturbed by the vast external world 24/7, I hope I can still keep the determination to treat myself well.

Cheers.