This Year, I Finally Stopped Arguing with a Ghost

2025 is our year of joy.
We’re welcoming our final child into the world, and we want to remember it—really soak it in since it’s the last time, ya know?

One of my three New Year’s resolutions is something I’d never have imagined—even two years ago: no career planning. Exactly as it sounds, I do not want to spend a single shred of time or energy obsessing over my next professional step.

I’ll never remember the sound of our baby’s laughter or the way they hold my finger if I’m simmering in the back of my mind about my next move or some other bullshit like that.

This resolution is shocking for me because I’ve quietly obsessed over my career for almost three decades. I don’t know what it’s like not to think about achievement. From my earliest school days, my worth was tied to what I achieved—anything that could help me get into an elite college and land a lucrative, respected job at the top of whatever ladder would crown me "the best of the best."

For those of you who didn’t grow up as South Asian immigrant kids, this might sound preposterous—even funny. But for those of us who did, this is no joke. The pressure to perform, to win approval through achievement, feels like it’s coded into our DNA—maybe even hidden in the spices of our ancestral cuisine.

Imagine the most intense armchair quarterback you know, the guy who lives and dies by how the Detroit Lions fare in the NFC North standings. Now apply that same fanatic energy to getting into a famous college. That’s the vibe.

And to really drive it home: a 37-year-old husband and father of almost four kids having a New Year’s resolution of "no career planning" is wild. It’s as alien as a dog laying an actual egg.

Getting here wasn’t easy. From the moment I considered this resolution, I started trying to convince myself it was a good idea. Over and over, I hashed out the same conversation: justifying why I wasn’t setting goals that would lead me to become a CEO or senior-level elected official. It’s that same old churn—resisting the achievement-addicted version of me who’s always craving that ever-elusive gold star.

But every time I pushed back against the addict within, he pushed right back.

Then, it hit me.

That addict is a ghost. He’s not here anymore.

I’ve made decision after decision that shut the door on becoming a CEO or a senior-level elected official. The life he wanted for me? It’s long gone. That window closed when I decided not to move to DC after college, when I stayed local for grad school, and when Robyn and I built our big, beautiful family.

That ghost has no power anymore. The dream he clung to isn’t even viable.

And yet, there I was—arguing with him. Justifying to this phantom why I don’t need to chase some mirage of a dream. I’d been sitting in an empty room, at an empty table at the center of my mind, negotiating with nobody.

Once I realized this, I knew it was time. Time to stop having the same damn conversation, over and over, about the direction I want to take my life. Time to stop justifying my decisions, explaining why I’ll never live up to that ideal I once clung to—that I was only worth what I achieved.

The only thing left in the room was the ghost. And when that happens—when the demons are put to rest—there’s only one thing left to do: say, “Thank you for your time, but this negotiation is over.” Turn off the light. Close the door behind us.

The most important thing I learned this year was this: at some point, you stop negotiating. You thank the ghost for what it taught you, but you leave it behind. Because joy isn’t found in rehashing the past—it’s waiting for us in the life we’re living now.

Reflection Questions: NYE 2020

Robyn and I (and our families) relish the last week of the year as a time to reflect on the year past and upcoming.

Here are a few reflection questions, many that we’ve talked about in our household over the past week. I wanted to share them, since this year in particular warrants reflection and prompts can be helpful.

But whether or not you use these prompts, I do think reflection - whether alone, with a friend, a partner, or a notebook - during this time of year is well worth it. I highly recommend taking at least a few quiet, contemplative minutes before you return to your usual routine.

Happy New Year!

Reflections that look backward:

• What have you received this year?

• What have you given this year?

• How have you made life difficult or inconvenient for others this year?

• What did you intend for 2020, and what actually happened?

• What were your high points and low points? What emotions did you feel at those points?

• What do you now know about how the world works, that you didn’t before?

• What happiness or sadness are you still holding onto?

• In what ways is your relationship different, or stronger?

• How has your perception of life in your community changed this year? How has your view of the world changed?

• What activities or people did you find a way to hang onto in some form?

• What’s an event that you’d want your grandchildren to remember about this year? What lesson would you share with them?

Reflections that look forward:

• What about this year would you continue in the future?

• What about this year would you never opt to do again?

• What do you intend for 2021?

• How do you want to make your closest relationships, like your marriage, stronger in 2021?

• What outcome that you want to happen is at the top of your list for 2021?

• What’s a way that you want to behave differently in 2021?

• What’s something you want to spend more time on in 2021? Less time on?

• What phase of life are you transitioning into or out of?

• What hard thing do you intend to tackle in 2021, even though you may fail?

• What are some of the relationships you want to focus on in 2021?

• What’s something that seems urgent but is really just a distraction for your most important 2021 priorities? (Pair with this post on anti-priorities).