Hello there, friend,
The new year came with a tiny bit of fanfare as my husband and I stayed way too late at a party with our kids and ended up racing home a few minutes before midnight. I gathered everyone on the couch and flipped on the TV. The kids had no idea what was happening, but I gave them instructions: We're going to count backwards and when we get to one, say Happy New Year and give kisses. They didn't love it like I had hoped, but they played along. Then everyone headed off to sleep.
For nearly a month, I had wrestled with what to make of the new year. Should I choose a guiding word or phrase? Should I set goals, make resolutions, start listing all of the things I want to do? When it came down to the final week of the year, the one stretching between Christmas and New Year's, I did very little. Mornings were lazy; my days unstructured. I worked as little as possible (maybe two hours), and read and wrote in my notebook as much as possible. Everything was loose. I was being present. It was amazing.
Now the new year has come and gone, and with it any pressure and doubt about setting an intention for the year. I have no goals, no magic phrases, nothing bearing down on me. And for me, that's very freeing. Perhaps there's an ebb and a flow to this as well. We have seasons where we need a nudge to live a better life, and others when we need to simply live. This year, as far as I can tell, is the latter.