a map for a mid-year review

This essay marks the beginning of Field Notes on Becoming, a new series exploring what it means to pay closer attention to our lives as they unfold. ★

We’ve just passed the midpoint of the year, and I feel equal parts terrified and hopeful for the months ahead. 2026 is shaping up to be a transformative year for me. Don’t get me wrong: I haven’t reached any huge milestones or made any dramatic moves so far. I haven’t gotten engaged or married, become a homeowner, published a book, or announced any ‘exciting and humbling’ career news to my 259 avid supporters on LinkedIn. Nevertheless, I can feel something shifting beneath the surface; an excitement for what the next six months might hold for me.

The past six months have been full of endings. I’m finishing my PhD, saying goodbye to one chapter of my life, and trying to work out what I want the next one to look like. Somewhere along the way, I realised that I was spending a lot of my time either thinking about the past few years, or imagining where I’d be in a year’s time. This is, I think, a normal way to feel at a point of transition. But I also don’t want the rest of the year to whirl by in a hazy blend of nostalgia and anticipatory worry, at the expense of feeling grounded in where I am.

At this point in the year, I always find myself drawn towards some kind of reset. The internet tends to offer two versions of this. One is the beautifully curated vision board: autumn wardrobes, beautiful writing desk setups, flatlays of dinner party hosting tables, and beautiful nature shots. I genuinely love making Pinterest boards, and there is something very joyful about collecting little glimpses of the life you hope to build. But I also find that this practice can encourage me to focus almost entirely on outcomes, rather than actually embodying the life I’m living now.

The other option is equally unsatisfying: an endless stream of optimisation advice. Habit trackers, productivity systems, and routines promising to transform your life by September, and to make you a better and more worthwhile human being. I’ve written before about why that sort of content doesn’t resonate with me. We aren’t machines waiting to discover the perfect operating system; we’re people trying to build meaningful lives while juggling work, relationships, health, uncertainty, and the wonderful inconveniences of being human.

Neither of those approaches encouraged me to actually notice my life as it was unfolding.

I don’t need a vision board; I don’t need another productivity system. Instead, I want to pause long enough to ask myself a simple question:

How am I actually living, and what actually matters to me?

So I decided to put together a mid-year review for myself. I really don’t want to give myself a performance review. I want to have an honest, reflective conversation with myself. Below, I’m sharing the first set of prompts I’ll be working through myself over the coming weeks.