What I Want For All of Us this New Year
Dear friend,
I want truth to be our safest place.
Not just the truth of words, but the truth of energy — the kind that’s felt in the body before it’s ever spoken aloud.
I want us to notice when something shifts and not rush past it.
To honor when something deepens. To pause when something breaks open. Not to fix it. Not to outrun it. But to breathe.
I want mutuality without performance.
Not a checklist of compatibility or a pursuit of perfection, but the quiet, rooted yes of nervous systems that don’t just tolerate each other’s rhythms — they attune to them.
I want us to soften and stir each other in the same breath.
To be both calm and catalyst. To be the ones who make each other more ourselves.
I want us to build lives that feel like exhale, not effort.
Lives that expand rather than contract. Where the mundane becomes sacred because we’re present for it, and the sacred becomes livable because we’re embodied inside it.
I want touch that isn’t only physical, but relational — the kind that knows the difference between reaching out and actually meeting.
I want conversations that wander. More questions than answers. Silences that speak. Choices made from the root — not the wound.
And I want to name something gently here, because many of us arrive at a new year with skill, insight, and good intentions — and still feel tired, hesitant, or thin on patience.
That doesn’t mean anything is wrong.
Skill is something we learn.
Capacity is something we build.
Skill is knowing how to do the thing. Capacity is having the internal space to do it without abandoning ourselves in the process.
Capacity is what allows truth to land without collapse. It’s what lets love be mutual instead of managed. It’s what makes genuine courage possible.
Winter doesn’t rush us toward action. It restores the internal ground required for truth.
And when we listen instead of forcing forward, something quiet but profound begins to happen: Space returns. Energy softens. Capacity begins to rebuild — not for what’s impressive, but for what’s real.
I want presence over performance.
Resonance over resolution.
We are not a spectacle. We are not a strategy. We are not problems to be solved or stories to be perfected. We are people learning how to stay. With ourselves. With one another.
So what I want for all of us in 2026 is this:
To release the habit of being the translator, the steady one at all costs. The one who smooths the edges so others don’t feel uncomfortable.
To be met — not just appreciated, but genuinely understood and deeply held.
To be surprised by how ease can coexist with depth. By how love doesn’t have to be earned through effort to be meaningful.
To stop bracing for disappointment and begin trusting alignment.
To stop confusing endurance with intimacy. And clarity with urgency.
To choose truth sooner, even when it’s quieter than fear.
To build lives that don’t require self-erasure to sustain them.
More than anything else, I want truth for all of us.
And I want us to remember this:
We don’t build new lives by pushing harder into the future.
We build them by increasing our capacity to be here —honest, embodied, and willing.
So whatever this year brings — whether it leads us toward each other, through one another, or gently into new forms we cannot yet imagine — I want truth to be the ground we walk on.
Because truth is the only ground where real love can grow.
And we are all worthy of nothing less.
From my heart to yours,
Practice Postscript
Where the letter stops being read and starts being lived
This week, notice the difference between having the skill to do something and having the capacity to do it with integrity.
When you feel the urge to push forward, fix, clarify, or decide, pause and ask yourself:
Do I know how to do this—or do I actually have the internal space for it right now?
Where in my body do I feel resourced—and where do I feel thin or braced?
Choose one small moment each day to practice capacity instead of effort. That might look like:
Letting a conversation stay unfinished.
Naming a truth sooner instead of perfecting it.
Resting without justifying it.
Releasing the need to be the steady one.
Allowing yourself to be met instead of managing the moment.
This isn’t about doing less forever. It’s about rebuilding the internal ground that makes truth, intimacy, and choice sustainable. Capacity returns when we stop asking ourselves to perform our way through life.
Let this be a week of listening—not for what’s next, but for what’s real.
The Invitation
If you want 2026 to be genuinely different—not because you push harder, but because you’re no longer doing it alone—I’d love to walk with you.
Complimentary Discovery Calls are open for January and February. They’re gentle, grounded, and pressure-free—a space to explore how you want to be met in your life, relationships, work, or leadership this year, and what kind of internal capacity you’re ready to build.
