Listening at the Beginning of a New Year

Sunnylands, Palm Springs CA, November 2023

After more than a year away from writing here, the beginning of a new year felt like the right moment to return.

Not because January carries any special magic of its own, but because I found myself listening more closely to the quiet questions that tend to surface when the calendar turns.

For many years I approached the new year the way many of us do — with a list of resolutions and a burst of enthusiasm.

Lose a few pounds.
Walk more miles.
Drink more water.

Good intentions, all of them.

But somewhere along the way — usually around the fifth pound lost, the tenth mile walked, and the 187th glass of water — my enthusiasm would begin to fade.

Perhaps you’ve experienced that too.

It took me a while to understand why.

It wasn’t that the goals themselves were wrong. The problem was that I was trying to change things without really understanding what was beneath them.

I hadn’t asked the deeper question.

Why?

Why did I want to make these changes?
What kind of life was I actually hoping to create?

When I finally slowed down long enough to ask those questions, something shifted.

Instead of writing a list of things I thought I should do in the coming year, I began thinking about the life I wanted to live.

I imagined traveling more — wandering new places, teaching creative workshops, spending time with curious and creative women around the world.

I imagined feeling more at home in my own body again, after a season when it had begun to feel unfamiliar.

Suddenly the goals themselves mattered less than the life they supported.

That small shift changed everything.

Instead of resolutions driven by pressure or expectation, I began making quieter commitments — gradual adjustments that felt aligned with the life I was hoping to build.

Not because the calendar demanded it.

But because I felt ready.

That sense of readiness is a powerful thing.

It transforms effort into intention. It turns obligation into curiosity. It invites us to move forward not with force, but with clarity.

And the truth is, the beginning of a new year isn’t the only moment when that kind of clarity can appear.

It might arrive in January.

Or on a random February afternoon.

Or during a quiet moment when we finally pause long enough to listen to the whispers in our own hearts.

Whenever it comes, it is always a good time to begin again.

So as this new year unfolds, my hope is simple.

To live with intention.

To listen closely.

And to follow the quiet sense of purpose that has begun to reveal itself.

Bon année, mes amis.