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A decade ago:

Me: “Is this a test?”

The Priest: “Every second is a test.”

Indeed, 2024 tested my resolve.

The start of the year went well, as it usually does. Bright-eyed and naive, I drafted my quarterly calendar, thinking a year could be planned in a day.

Deshaun suggested we get a professional makeover for logos, typefaces, and a consistent color palette. In his 2/4 manner, he says, “I know a guy.”

Of course, you do.

He emails his friend, Justin, and they do whatever Generator types do when their sacral responses ping off each other.

I have no eye for aesthetics. My in-person signature look has been eyeliner and a hoodie, so good luck with that, Justin.

He did incredibly. Look how sexy my logos are.

I also started the year working with a group of emerging Human Design readers in my group program, Human Design Dialogues. It’s non-certifying because I have strong feelings about the certifying bodies within the system.

I enjoyed the program so much, I reran it in the summer. There was plenty of feedback, which allowed me to adjust as I went.

Then, I re-recorded most of the videos between Cohort 1 and Cohort 2. There’s got to be something in my chart about masochism- ah yes, that’d be the 3/5 profile. If I’m not jumping off the hill after setting myself on fire, am I truly living my design?

Human Design Dialogues is my favorite program of 2024. I intend to bring it back in 2025 with more adjustments.

Speaking of which, my back and hips need a good adjustment after carrying a baby for most of the year. I was in my early twenties when I had my first two sons. I was almost 34 when I gave birth to this newborn.

I feel like I didn’t use all these cushions, flail around trying to sleep, or have a difficult time breathing with my other pregnancies. Then I was told nature makes us forget these things, or we’d never reproduce again.

There’s a lesson here somewhere. My sacral, the center of life, reproduction, and womb, is completely open. It has now seated three Manifesting Generating children.

Each sacral-defined being is part of a collective that tends the earth through the blood they willingly give as a response to what is/isn’t growing.

What an honor it is to birth three of them. What a hurricane it is to live with four of them (DeShaun is a Generator.)

But with life, there is death. Always.

Six months pregnant and with a child in each hand, I had to stand in the pet urgent care office, trying to explain to my kids what it means when a cat gets euthanized. I had to explain why we couldn’t take out another month’s rent after we’d already bled all the money I made to help him.

My eleven-year-old son, to whom the cat belonged, wanted clarification.

“My cat has to die because of money?”

“It’s either the roof over our head or your cat. I’m sorry.”

My son had just graduated from elementary school. It was supposed to be a happy time.

I signed the papers for his cat’s euthanization.

Thankfully, that cat said, “Really? Fuck you too then,” and passed his clog fifteen minutes before the needle. The bank account was emptier, and savings were gone, but he survived.

We were happy again.

Three weeks later, my eight-year-old son’s cat stopped eating. I was told that he didn’t warrant taking up an urgent care spot due to his young age.

I was advised by a friend to pack him up and stand in front of urgent care until they’d see me. The lights went out from his eyes as I put my shoes on to take him there.

My other son said, “When we got him, you told me we’d have many years with him.”

I know I did.

I still feel guilty about his passing. As stubborn as I am, I could’ve been more stubborn, more insistent, that he needed care.

This bled into the rest of my launches of 2024. I didn’t have it in me to do webinars, write emails, write blog posts, go on podcasts- the usual things entrepreneurs do to sustain their business.

Money is the blood of a business.

After our cat passed, every cent that came in was a trigger. The truth is, I resented the money I was making.

Why wasn’t the money here earlier?

Maybe I could’ve bribed a vet.

My mind is incredible at tricking me into thinking every problem could be solved if I just had more money. As if a cat’s life was guaranteed if I threw enough money at it.

Maybe I’d even be able to bribe God.

When you resent the gifts that you’re given, the gifters stop gifting. The universe punishes your tantrums.

My marketing became soulless. People can tell when the passion is gone from my voice. I’m a self-projected Projector- my words are how I sell.

The Gates of Fear was the first time The Wild Pixel made space for my grief.

I was heavily inspired by the tormented mind of H.P. Lovecraft.

The product is strange. There is no industry demand for it. No one is Googling this stuff. It amuses me when someone buys it because I have no idea why someone would be interested.

Soul’s Blueprint is obvious because it’s what you go for if you want to learn about your life’s purpose.

My Human Design Expanded PDF is straightforward. Get a long-form version of your chart.

Gates of Fear? Hm. No clue. I made it out of love for the primal side of Human Design, but I never thought people would actually buy it.

My newest offering happened at the end of the year. It’s the membership I’ve dreamed of for the past year and a half. I’ve brought it up to DeShaun countless times. Picked Pilar’s brain over it when I joined The Hive. I even joined a membership about memberships.

I knew it needed to be experimental. My undefined ego center reminds me that I have to be careful about making promises. My 3/5 reminds me how I must test it before going all in. Everyone knew upfront that the first three months I’ve committed to will determine if I keep the membership.

The launch went well, as did the first month- and wow, okay, my daughter is coming three weeks early and- oh, my son is going to ICU and- oh, my other son has Covid.

I spent one week in the pediatric ward tending my daughter and then another week to care for my son.

The timing for the membership was awful. I ended up shutting down and putting all the content in one place, releasing the future content I put on the back burner, and giving everyone lifetime access to the material.

Despite my turbulent personal life at that time, the membership was well-received. For that, I am grateful.

And that’s my review of 2024.

I’m planning 2025 differently because what I’m doing isn’t working. I’m combining Elizabeth Buckley-Goddard’s anti-planning system and Babs Cheung’s astrology quarterly planning by natal chart. Babs did a workshop for the quarterly planning in the membership, and it now lives in Complete Human Design Integration.

According to my astro quarterly planning, I go full Capricorn goat mode for a month and do whatever (nap?) for the other eleven.

My crunchy millennial bones like the sound of that.

My primary wish for 2025 is to get another Human Design Dialogues cohort going because it’s FUN! Perhaps I’ll have childcare by then (can we group manifest DeShaun to have more remote work days?)

I’m also getting antsy to do readings. I barely did live readings this year outside of Human Design Dialogues members. Maybe I’ll go back to prerecorded readings. Maybe I’ll bring back Voxer days.

At my core, I’m a Human Design READER. We’re at the point where I’m heckling peers so I can look at their charts (this isn’t an exaggeration) for fun. No one has called me a creep yet.

Moving into 2025, I am quitting the self-flagellation. It’s time to use these tears to grow something instead of destroying boxes of tissues.

In 2024, heartbreaking things happened, and incredible people showed up for me.

As someone born with the life purpose of being the container, the vessel of love, this year showed me how much love people had to give me. How many people rushed to fill and overfill my cup while I kept emptying and spilling it.

This year, every second was tested. I may have a D-, but I passed the test.