A Year of Flow

Earlier this year I wrote about my annual theme, Flow, and what it means to me. But now we’re eleven months in, and I want to know what Flow has meant to our team. We asked everyone what flow-related word they’d use to describe their year and why. Here’s what they shared with us.

Angela: Creek

So much of this year has felt like a winding creek that is sometimes shallow and easygoing and other times rushing and daunting. But just like the creek, I’m learning to trust that there’s always a way forward. I’m learning (slowly) to flow around the hard parts and appreciate the ride, knowing that one day, everything will look different.

Anna: Whirlpool

This year, I finished my first year of grad school and started the second. Whirlpool is the perfect word for the blend of energy, intensity, and passion this year has been. Sometimes I’m at the edge being flung around at high speed, but sometimes I’m right in that pocket of air in the middle. 

Beth: Tide

I chose “tide” because a tide rises at night and recedes during the day, which feels a lot like my primary focus this year: establishing a solid and healthy daily routine. As someone who lives far inland, any time I go to the beach I’m amazed to see the tide rise and fall. To me a good routine feels much the same way—it moves effortlessly and consistently through each day.

Bob: Stream

Stream describes the year I journeyed. There was a flow to the year that was clear and moving forward at a manageable pace. The year provided many twists and turns through a variety of spaces. The flow enabled refreshment and nourishment. In the physical world that we live in, I have always been drawn to property, land that had a stream running through it. I always felt a stream would always be familiar because you can see it in its form every day, however, it presents unknown opportunities that novel things may pass through from upstream that satisfies my curiosity.

Chad: Whirlpool

Definition: a rapidly rotating mass of water in a river or sea into which objects may be drawn, typically caused by the meeting of conflicting currents.

As this year has unfolded, it’s felt like I keep getting pulled into one whirlpool after another—caught in this fast-moving river where a bunch of conflicting currents all crash into each other at once.

My biggest mix of curiosity/excitement and loathing/fear has been the rise of AI and how quickly it’s reshaping the work I’ve done my entire career. This industry has always evolved, and I’ve always found a way to evolve with it. But this AI river is moving at a speed that sometimes feels almost too fast to keep up with, and it leaves my head swirling as I’m just trying to keep my oars in the water.

Cynthia: Creek

This year felt like moving along a winding creek. After graduation, I wasn’t sure what direction to go or what the next step should be. Starting grad school was exciting, but it also came with a lot of uncertainty and second-guessing. I spent a lot of time feeling unsure about my choices and wondering if things would ever feel stable. But little by little, things started to make more sense. I found my rhythm, gained more clarity, and started feeling more confident in the path I’m on. Now, everything is becoming clearer and finally moving in the right direction.

Nina: Evaporate

Time evaporates, hours into days, into weeks, into months. Where has the year gone? 

Grief was strong, but it, too, evaporated, a little at first, then more; not quite gone, just evaporating. Grief recoups the tears of love and loss, then Time helps them evaporate again.

Problems wash in and away, some worsening, some solved, some unyielding. My life is measured out in to-do lists, which replenish and evaporate endlessly.

Gratitude evaporates sometimes, and it takes monumental effort to recover: to once again be grateful, to be merciful, to be renewed.

Rachel: Dew

My year has been comprised of tiny blessings and miracles that accumulate to cover my entire life with gratitude to my Savior Jesus Christ and my Heavenly Father. The picture is just one example of a blessing that my family was able to visit an aquarium together and get close to sharks (with a thick glass between us and them!).

Dew is a meteorological phenomenon and I consider all the blessings in my life to be wonderful phenomena. Even in the trials, there is still joy to be found in the miracles.

Shaun: River

Like a river, I feel like 2025 has had everything from slow flows to fast rough currents & rapids. The combination of both education of AI and using AI, have created easier workflows but also heavy weighted stress keeping up with all the possibilities. 

Matt: Waves

Living on Lake Erie, I see the power of the lake water and variety of waves every day. This past year has brought ups and downs both personally and professionally. Everything could be calm and going smoothly – the lake is flat or has small ripples; then some crazy event happens that disrupts your day – like when the waves pick up, become large and pound the shore. But you always know it won’t last, the water will settle down and become calm again. And so it goes, the good and the bad, flowing together.

Peter: Vapor

Closed our company’s office and switched to work from home. Stepping into new ways of doing familiar things that aren’t clear at the start. Also have COVID for the first time, with the brain fog symptoms.

Kelly: Drift

When I look back, the year didn’t move in a straight line or even with much intention at times—it drifted. There were stretches where the water was choppy and unpredictable, moments where I felt pushed by currents I didn’t choose, and long periods of simply staying afloat and trusting I’d reach the next calm.

I look at my photos often. Every month I do a 30-day reflection, and one of the things I return to is my camera. I take a lot of photos, and I’ve learned that when an image keeps pulling me back, it means something. This one did.

The image I’m sharing isn’t of me, but I did take it. It captures a moment, Matt kayaking at sunset. After all the movement, the noise, the storminess of the year, that quiet moment feels like where I landed. Just still. Drift gets a bad reputation, but I’ve learned it can also be a form of trust. Letting the water carry you when forcing direction would only exhaust you.

If Flow taught me anything this year, it’s that not every season is about momentum. Some are about staying present, keeping your head above water, and recognizing when calm finally arrives—even if it’s quieter than you expected.