As the year winds down and the inbox finally quiets, there’s often the urge to close the book on it. But what if you didn’t just yet?
What if you paused instead, and treated December as an opportunity to get clear on the year that was?
Before the holiday season kicks into full gear, let’s take time to look back at 2025 and evaluate what actually happened. What worked. What didn’t. What mattered. What didn’t.
This kind of inventory is both practical and strategic. It helps you notice where your energy went, where your systems held up (or broke down), and where your actions aligned with the kind of researcher you want to be.
A Year-End Inventory: Your Research Audit
Take yourself out for a coffee or put your phone on do not disturb, grab a notebook or open a blank doc, and work through the following prompts. Don’t overthink your responses. This is about surfacing patterns, not scoring yourself.
➔ When I look back at 2025, I am most proud of:
➔ If I could do something differently, it would be:
Now, break it down:
- Projects: What actually got finished? What stalled? Why?
- Time: Where did your research hours go? Was that aligned with your priorities?
- Energy: What drained you? What restored you?
- Visibility: What ideas or outputs did you share with others? Were there missed opportunities?
- Collaboration: Who helped you move forward? Who made things harder?
- Habits: What routines sustained your research energy? What didn’t work so well?
- Boundaries: Where did you protect your time? or let it leak?
You can jot quick bullet points, free-write, or talk it out with a trusted peer. The format doesn’t matter, the insight does.
What do you do with what comes up?
As James Clear author of Atomic Habits puts it: Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you want to become.
This inventory shows you how you voted this year. What you showed up for. What you avoided. What you prioritised, intentionally or not.
This isn’t about turning it into a plan (that’s January’s job). It’s about getting honest:
- What supported you, and might be worth doubling down on?
- What kept getting dropped, and why? Was it not essential? Or were supports missing?
- What repeatedly drained you? What do you need to change? Or do you need a better system?
A few examples:
- If writing kept slipping — was it lack of time, or avoidance due to uncertainty?
- If your energy dropped mid-year — was it burnout or boredom?
- If you avoided collaboration — was it about people, timing, or confidence?
You don’t need to fix any of this now. But you do need clarity, because this is what helps you respond with intention, not reactivity.
Reflection is not a luxury
As qualitative researchers, we are trained to engage in reflexive practice, to analyse patterns and question assumptions, yet we don’t often apply that same lens to our own work practices. This kind of self-inventory brings your research life into focus with the same rigour you bring to your fieldwork.
It helps you distinguish between what’s noise and what’s necessary. Between what’s performative and what’s productive. Between what’s routine, and what’s actually working.
You don’t need a resolution. You need a record.
Academic life moves fast. If you don’t pause to look back, you risk building the next phase of your research life on assumptions instead of evidence, both felt experience and hard facts.
So carve out an hour, and let this be a gift from you to you. Reflect on how you actually spent your time, energy, and attention in 2025.
That’s your research life. Not the job title. Not the metrics. The lived reality.
Get clear on that, and you’ll know exactly what’s worth protecting, tweaking, or letting go.
No hype. No shame. Just clarity.
Wishing you a restful end to 2025, and the space to reflect – on how it was for you.
