Every public company produces an annual report: what happened, what worked, what failed, and where the resources go next. Most humans, the CEOs of their own considerably more important enterprise, drift year to year on vibes and a gym resolution. The asymmetry is strange when you notice it.
A personal annual report is a two-hour ritual with three sections: the numbers, the narrative, and the reallocation. It requires a blank document and uncomfortable honesty, and it compounds like nothing else I've adopted in a decade of self-experimentation.
