Take Flight This Year!
In 2026, we're introducing pictures to the newsletter!
Have you ever tried setting a goal in the middle of June? It's really hard. The sun is out. The beach is calling your name. A vacation is around the corner. Another Partiful just hit your inbox. Your friend has an extra ticket to a show. Your crush invited you to a comedy show. A new restaurant opened up down the street. You play kickball on Thursdays. Your manager scheduled a mysterious one-on-one for Friday morning. And no one else is setting goals, so why should you?
Yes. June sucks for goal-setting, but so does every other time of the year. October is too spooky. March is too green. And don’t even get me started about August. (August is just June but hotter and less fun.) No. The only time period ripe for goal-setting is late December/early January. This is a time when people have off. Offices are closed. People are visiting home. There’s a general merriment in the air. You have some real down time. People are flipping through camera rolls to set up their end-of-the-year photo dumps. And there’s a sweet, catchy name for goals set around this time: New Year’s Resolutions.
It’s almost like late December/early January was constructed for deep reflection and goal-setting, and lovers of New Year’s Resolutions feel this inherently. I’m writing this dispatch from the comfort of a coffee shop with my journal in front of me and my New Year’s Resolution filling up multiple pages of my Notes app. The “New Year, Same Me” mantra that dominated your least favorite person’s social media in the early 2010s never resonated with me, while committing to bettering yourself at the beginning of a new year is my favorite pastime.
So whether you’re like me and have a deep, color-coordinated, tiered-version of your New Year’s Resolution or laugh in the face of New Year’s Resolutioners, I want to use my first dispatch of 2026 to tell you—as the title suggests—to take flight this year! Commit yourself to a goal and go achieve it!
Write that novel. Launch that business. Start that food Instagram. Quit that job. Get that raise. Pop that question. Start that garden. Move to that city. Get off that dating app. Get back on that dating app. Book that trip. Read that book. Finish that screenplay. Join that band. Launch that Substack. Run for that office. Volunteer at that organization. Whatever “taking flight” in 2026 looks like for you, go after it, and take flight achieving it. Take flight like Superman.
Take flight like Superman? Could I be any more corny? Well, yes. Stay with me here as we dive deeper into the realm of corny and nerdy.
I’ll try to make it pay off in the end. . . .
Okay. While reflecting on my 2025, one of the things I noticed was that I had a pretty big Superman phase in the middle of it. It began as prep for the release of James Gunn’s Superman (2025), but it slipped into being an investigation of what made this character such an icon across so many generations. For so long, I viewed Superman as the first superhero. He wasn’t that special or that cool. He just came first. Like Pac-Man. Or Pong (1972). He was overstuffed with superpowers because his creators didn’t know how to package his abilities. He was brightly colored because his creators wanted to use all of their crayons. He wasn’t nearly as slick as Batman, interesting as Wolverine, or as fun as Spider-Man. He was just Superman, the superhero who came first.
But throughout my exploration, I discovered something fundamental about Superman that changed my whole perspective on the character.
This may end up sounding obvious to anybody who’s done a semi-close-reading of a Superman story, but for those who have only had a passive relationship with the Man of Steel, let me break it down for you.
Most Superman origin stories tell the tale of Kal-El being sent to Earth by his parents from the dying planet of Krypton in a last-ditch to save his life and give him a future. Pretty gnarly stuff, but it establishes a pretty important aspect: Kal-El is an alien. Not a pejorative one. A literal one. He’s not from Earth. And he technically isn’t even human. Luckily, on Earth, he’s found by Jonathan and Martha Kent, a farming couple from Kansas, who take him in and provide him with a home and a new name: Clark Kent.
Eventually, Clark grows up and discovers that he’s different than his classmates and has special abilities—like super strength, super speed, and the ability to fly—waiting to be unlocked within him. (Smallville squeezed the most out of this premise for 10 seasons and 218 episodes.) Over time, he discovers all the things I mentioned earlier: he isn’t from Earth. He isn’t human. He’s not Jonathan and Martha’s child. His home planet was destroyed. And his real parents are dead.
It has all the makings of a villain origin story, especially when you factor in all the ridiculous powers percolating throughout his body. But what makes Clark/Superman so special is what he decides to do next.
Despite all he knows, Clark/Superman decides to unlock his potential, hone his superpowers, lean into the humanity (that he’s gained from Jonathan and Martha and his hometown of Smallville) and use his abilities to better humanity. This, on the surface, feels pretty comic booky. But if you take the decision at face-value, it’s one of the most admiral choices in all of fiction. A non-human, who could take over the world or destroy the planet, decides to use his abilities to better humanity little by little.
It’s beautiful.
I was moved when I finally saw Superman in this light, but what struck me the most was how inspiring the decision was and how it could be applied to everyday people living their everyday lives.
We may not all be aliens from another planet with the ability to shoot lasers from our eyes, but we all have superpowers (read: abilities and characteristics that make us special) that we might be knowledgeable of—or unaware of—lying within us, and we’re all capable of using that power to make the world a better place, even if its at a micro level. We might not be able to stop a runaway train like Superman. But we could all take a photography class, learn to use a camera, and become a world-class photographer or at least the person who documents their friend group’s biggest events. We just have to access that power, lean into our humanity, and begin making the most of it like Superman.
We have to take flight.
What does “taking flight” look like for me, personally?
Well, I have conditioned myself into believing my super power is writing and that I have a sphere of influence with the tiny-but-mighty audience of this newsletter, so for me, “taking flight” is rooted in leveling up this newsletter, which I’ve broken down into the smaller goals below:
Be more vulnerable
Be more consistent
Push the boundaries
Provide more advice
All my smaller goals are important to me, but let’s unpack that last one: “Provide more advice.”
A couple months ago, I started thinking about what people get out of my newsletter and how I could offer something beyond the classic pop culture analysis. I thought long and hard and came up with a number of options that you might see in the future, but the main answer I landed on was sharing more advice-based dispatches. Dispatches more rooted in inspiration. Dispatches that other people (whether creative or business-minded or interested in personal growth) could take something from and apply to their own lives. And THIS dispatch is the first one: “Take Flight This Year.”
The goal is to sprinkle in these instructive or motivating newsletters throughout the year, so that people trying to achieve a goal can use it as fuel or a signpost to keep going. You might see a future dispatch about the power of perseverance. You might see another about learning to love your failures. Whatever it might be, my objective will be to offer the seasonal newsletter that makes you want to continue pursuing your goal or chasing your dreams.
So, with whatever “taking flight” looks like for you, let’s do it together. Me with my newsletter and these advice-laced dispatches. You with whatever creative, professional, or personal goal you’re chasing. Let’s hold each other accountable. Let’s make sure we both “take flight this year.”
To conclude, I’m sharing a scene from Superman (2025) because I think it’s one of the movie’s strongest moments and gets at the heart of everything I’ve been trying to say. Specifically, one line sums it all up: “Your choices, Clark, your actions . . . that’s what makes you who you are.”
I remind you, Superman could be whoever he wants. I keep repeating it, but he’s not from Earth and he’s not human. He’s not tied to any prerequisite on how to function. He could easily be the villain that Lex Luthor wants him to be. But that’s why Superman’s choices and actions are so meaningful. He chooses to use his powers for good and then he acts on it. He chooses to help others and then he acts on it. He chooses to take flight and then he acts on it.
In 2026, I encourage you to do the same. Make a choice and act on it. Make 2026 about becoming who you’re meant to be. Make 2026 super. Make 2026 about finding your inner super power, being the superhero of your own life, and taking flight (in whatever form it means to you). Commit to it right now and begin taking steps towards flying. Trust me, you won’t want to do it June.