My Word of 2026

I’ve never been one for setting New Year’s resolutions.

I don’t know when my tradition of not setting a resolution began, but I’m sure it started early.

Last year, though, I joined a circle of therapists creating art together. Navigating life’s hardest moments, and restoring ourselves so that we can continue to show up for the people we love, and the people we care for (i.e. our clients). The group facilitator wisely and gently suggested we select a word for 2026. Not a resolution—but a word.

After a series of tumbling events, all collapsing in on each other culminating in the end of my 2025, I was more or less slapped in the face with a new life quest: to make some major life changes, that honestly, I’d been stubbornly avoiding too long. Stubbornness is my best and worst quality, or so I’ve been told. But that’s for another post.

It was during this period (my life folding in on itself) that I stumbled upon my word for 2026: Stillness. It found me accidentally. Quietly. There was no grand pronouncement. It found me one morning after beginning a much-needed daily mindfulness practice.

For perhaps my entire life, I’ve always been on the go. Since I was a child. I tell people that “I grew up in the car.” I thought in adulthood, by 34 years old, I had finally gotten better at standing still. Until my life got turned upside down, and I had to face that the 34 year old version of me wasn’t all that different from the child version of me. Always on the go.

In recent years, I’ve been trying more and more to be less busy. To move more with intention. More slowly. And as I begin to embrace stillness, I’m learning—again and again—that my mind and body are asking me to create more space, and do a little less. Less jumping into new hobbies (abandoning old ones in the process), turning hobbies into streams of revenue (guilty). Less outings and events. You get the picture. And somehow, in doing less, I’m finding that I’m also doing more with less.

Embracing stillness has been something I have stubbornly resisted, even after selecting it as my word for 2026. My first interpretation was: great, so basically embracing boredom.

Lately though, I find myself slowly shifting into a different framework. Stillness is becoming less about boredom, and more about attunement and depth. In embracing stillness I’m embracing intentionality—facing my fears, taking thoughtful risks slowly, and gently challenging everything I once knew. I’m finding ways to move beyond my limitations in ways that honor both me and others, with more authenticity than ever. I’m committing to a daily (well, mostly daily) mindfulness practice.

I think stillness chose me, because all we really have is right now. And before I chose it, maybe I didn’t really even have that.