This notion of mapping probably resonates so much for me because the power of place has been a prominent theme for me this year. I’m moved to reflect on the places that have imprinted on me — and on the notion of place itself.
Looking at my map of 2024, the first thing I notice is the topography, which combines personal and professional experiences and learning. Ups, downs, valleys, peaks: My daughter’s hip surgery (she’s doing well); the birth of a new strategic plan for USA for UNHCR (more on this in the new year), where I’m nearing the end of year two as CEO. As I age (as a woman), I’ve leaned into more weight training and less pure cardio. As I mature (as a leader), I’m trying to be more intentional about my time and how and where I spend it.
Elections and other major world events are the rivers that run through my map, their runoff affecting my groundwater, alongside the integrity and love of good people across the globe. At most destinations, beauty and despair sit side by side. I think of Syria, of Lebanon, of Sudan and of Gaza. I think of elections the world over, often resulting in outcomes that feel like we’re stepping away from justice and rights and equality. I think of climate effects and devastating droughts… fires… hurricanes and blizzards.
Trace the lines, and you’ll see me traveling around the country and the globe. Here I am witnessing the experience of displaced people in Panama’s Darién Gap. A mother in flip flops holds her toddler by the arm, all of her belongings in a plastic bag. The shading from the impact of our encounter colors so much of my 2024 map, beyond the pinpoint that marks where our paths crossed.
Now it’s late fall, and I’m in Warsaw, Poland, where I meet a woman in her 70s, who only wants to go home. She shows me the keys to her apartment in Ukraine. She tells me that at this stage of her life, she was supposed to be brewing hot tea and playing card games; instead, she is displaced, living in a big city hundreds of miles from home, where she didn’t speak the language.
On her map of 2024, home is far away, across a border, unreachable. For me, home is at the other end of a plane ride (“ugh, air travel” – so easy to take for granted) — my current home, in Washington, DC, as well as every place I’ve ever called home, from San Antonio, Texas to Ithaca, New York. And once I’m back in DC, my first home in the city is only a few neighborhoods away;I can and do drive by occasionally to get a glimpse at the garden I planted back in spring of 2008.
When I had the privilege of being home this year, in between trips, I continued my commitment to setting clear boundaries. I read Set Boundaries, Find Peace, which I highly recommend. It occurs to me: the boundaries we set around ourselves are like borders drawn between countries; we decide who and what moves in and out. This is a kind of sovereignty that not everyone experiences, but that everyone deserves.
Curiosity is one of my core leadership values (I’ve written about it before), and it’s been a good traveling companion this year. I’ve met and learned from so many people who inspire me with their integrity, spirit, and service. Human connection is, to me, the ultimate gift that travel provides, whether I’m going across the globe or across town. Thank you to my fellow travelers, all of you.
As your own year comes to a close, I invite you to consider what your own map of 2024 looks like, and I wish you peace and joy for the journey ahead.