Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2017 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2017

2016 5 minutes, 2015 5 minutes, 2014 5 minutes, 2013 5 minutes, 2012 5 minutes, 2011 5 minutes, and 2010 5 minutes

What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

In 2010, I made xmas photo. In 2011, I made metaphorical things—that were intentionally symbolic of relationships and history. In 2012, I made ice cream. In 2013, I made design. In 2014, I made “my room”. In 2015, I made the last line of Ice Cream Travel Guide, literally. In 2016, I made my annual holiday video.

This year? Well, just minutes ago, I did some design work for my job, which doesn’t feel super compelling. But things that I am proud of—that ice cream sandwich. That petit four thingie. And reorganizing my place with Chris.

But the most satisfying thing was creating my annual holiday card, compiling a list of 10 things—which was a mass of discussion in trying not be too negative about 2017. Not everything that we learned in 2017 really needed to reflect our political tendencies or the disgust of how the country is going.

As with all years, I made a holiday video. The previous week, I spent browsing the most viral videos of the year to find the video or meme that would not only be simple to make but had that instant connection for me.

After browsing through a number candidates, it was clear that the BBC news interview interrupted by a young 4-year old was the clear winner.

First I had to consider my setup. Due to Chris’ recent move-in, everything was in disarray. But I remembered that the deep analysis had looked at exactly how Robert E. Kelly had setup his interview—books that would look intellectual, a world map to suggest that he was wordly, and a sports jacket.

As a principal product designer, I take video conferences all day. Quite often, I am anguished by external sounds—like the construction or roommates stomping in the hallway. Not only that, I often spent some time perfecting my background so that it looks that I am serious about my job (NOT!)

The wall where Chris and I had done an affinity diagram of our goals for 2017 was quite appropriate. I also had the business suit that I had purchased right before college education (I soon discovered that most jobs in the Bay Area do not want a business suit).

And so after explaining the scene to my sister and Chris, I set up the scene. I removed as much possible from the bed. Then I placed a copy of Ice Cream Travel on a nightstand. Then I tried to move the laptop (yes, this time a laptop to simulate a video call) as far as from the door as possible. I put it inside a bookshelf within the Expedit. Then we had to consider who would play the role of the little brother, especially since we didn’t have any small child available. At first, Toad was the right candidate, but we realized that Toad was going to be too small in any rolling tool that we had (and the camera wouldn’t put at the floor anyway). So we took Mr. Bear and placed him in an office chair with the instruction that my sister would push the door open.

“Dress rehearsal!” I called.

Then with one take, I started blabbering into the camera using Photo Booth app on my macbook. Then Chris entered, doing a jaunty dance. I pushed him aside. Then Mr. Bear entered while Chris looked through the book. Then my sister entered the room pulling Mr. Bear and Chris out. I continued blabbering. Then Chris entered with a Happy Holidays greeting which I would jump in.

After the dress rehearsal, I looked through the video to see any adjustments. Mostly to make sure my sister appeared out of frame when Mr. Bear entered in the office chair.

Then on the next take, we executed! Looking over it briefly, we decided that it was good enough quality.

And that’s how the video was made.

Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail.

In 2016, it was the moment that I felt in the flow in telling the story of Ice Cream Travel Guide. In 2015, it was the moments after my hat was “stolen” in Rio. In 2014, it was a moment in a writing workshop that I had achieved greatness. In 2013, it was talking to Yasar Usta in Istanbul. In 2012, it was using the ocean as a “big toilet” while floating outside Palawan. In 2011, it was my birthday moment. In 2010, it was the success in Journey to the End to the Night.

This year was full of ups and downs than the typical year. But was it those moments? When I executed a plan on quitting my job? Or when I went to constant protests and showing up to events? Or was it when I interviewed and received an offer? Or when I had decided that I didn’t care what people thought anymore? Or was it smaller—when I stopped being afraid of being quiet and spoke up, sometimes too much in a confrontational way (because of this year)?

I know that this year, it was less about the moments of ice cream. Although I still had some great ones at Wanderlust Creamery in LA and that constant flurry of great flavors at Garden Creamery in San Francisco.

What I do know was a moment that I had been at a conference earlier this year. It wasn’t about being on stage. It wasn’t about the fact that I got my talk accepted or that I stood in front of a huge amount of people telling a story that touched people. It wasn’t even after the talk when people came up to me and ask more about my thoughts. It was none of that.

It was the moment that stemmed from the moment that I had enough of skulking around one of the conference mixers, because I was having horrible social anxiety. For whatever reason, I was unable to connect with anyone. All conversations that I had fell flat and dwindled into nothing. Then suddenly, I found myself standing alone, awkwardly.

I had read Captivate earlier and was trying to read the cues of where to interject. I wasn’t going to end up like the awkward person I was in college where I had failed to make connections because I never tried. I was going to try. But everything kept falling flat. I kept looking for the feet pointing outward, but I just couldn’t find it.

So instead, I finally headed to the patio (a place where I had awkwardly entered already twice by this point). There, I noticed a group of people stand up, leaving a seat on the sofa open. It seemed like a prime opportunity, but I knew that the potential could fall flat leading into a conversation of nothing.

And it started super awkwardly. But somehow I made a good impression when suddenly everyone wanted to get up and I shyly asked whether I could join. And when I suggested “ice cream”, everyone cheered and I immediately earned my place.

It wasn’t exactly that moment. During that first night, I was still evaluating the group, trying to figure out who these people were.

I just knew that I had made a good impression, but nothing more. In the subsequent days, I made an effort to talk to people one-on-one. And there, connections were made.

But it was the moment at the conference closing party. Where I was invited to stand at a table, chatting with everyone. When suddenly a conversation about being conservative and liberal popped up. I thought carefully and crafted my conversation. But most of all, I was being me, communicating my thoughts. Insisting on my place as a woman of color. I knew that because the group liked me, they would always side with me. I thought that they were fascinating too.

We went to the rooftop of a boutique artsy hotel. On the way, we said goodbye to some. Then I said goodbye to another.

But then that was what it was. An instant connection all because I took a risk. I felt alive in the resulting moment, because I rarely if ever connect with people that instantly. Especially people who were so very unlike me. And then I did it.