New Year’s resolutions
Good morning, world, and a Happy New Year to all! May the start of 2025 find you in good health and good spirits.
I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions—I tend to create them throughout the year. However, the marking of a new beginning, even if it’s just chronological, offers a natural moment for reflection and potential action.
The New Year can be seen as a blank canvas, inviting a fresh start. But the canvas is only part of the story. Equally—if not more—important are the tools we bring to the task: our colours, materials, and techniques. Most crucial of all is the artist: the self that chooses the tools and guides the hand shaping the canvas. Even that self isn’t fixed; it’s made up of many parts, each of which might take control at different times.
If this canvas marks the start of a new chapter for you, I invite you to consider how you use your tools to shape your narrative and the image you wish to create.
Perhaps you’re feeling anxious about returning to work, and you find yourself relying on familiar tools: worst-case scenarios, avoidance, withdrawal. What colour does your anxiety take? Red, yellow, blue? Why that colour? What stories about yourself are tied to that hue and shade? Are those stories critical, pulling you down? Remember, these narratives may have been true once, but they don’t have to define you today. The world doesn’t have to remain as it was. If you feel anxious, try viewing yourself through the lens of self-compassion—the same kindness you likely offer to others.
Maybe you’re embarking on a new relationship—with a person, a pet, a place, or a job. Notice the tools and stories that arise as you approach this connection. Have past hurts or rejections left you guarded? Are you approaching from a place of fear, avoiding connection or seeking constant reassurance? These, too, are old stories that may not fit who you are now. Kindness and compassion for yourself are the foundation of self-love, which, in turn, makes space for others to love you. Love requires vulnerability—a paradoxical strength when shared reciprocally. Don’t let fear stop you from loving.
You might also be grappling with existential dread over the state of the world. Like me, you may shed tears at the unfolding horrors in the Middle East, Ukraine, and countless other forgotten places. Perhaps you’re losing sleep over the implications of the upcoming US presidency and environmental crises. The relentless news cycle can feed a narrative of despair and hopelessness. Social media may pull you into doomscrolling, leaving you feeling inadequate and disconnected, comparing your reality to the curated highlights of others. These platforms profit from keeping you engaged, often through fear and outrage. But remember: just as we slow down to stare at a car crash, how often do we pause to notice acts of kindness and love?
In 2025, I invite you to take breaks from the internet. Step into nature with someone or something you cherish—a friend, a partner, a pet. Breathe in the damp forest air or the salty breeze by the sea. Log out of the World Wide Web and log into the World Wide Wood.
Here’s a piece of music I listened to when my first child was born—a moment filled with hope, fittingly her middle name. May it bring you a sense of renewal as you step into the New Year.
Wishing you peace in 2025. OneLove
Max
