Beyond Resolutions: A Gentle Beginning to the New Year
January Newsletter
As we collectively transition into January, a month often crowded with resolutions and cluttered with cognitive ideas of the actions we “should” take, I invite you to consider doing something different this year. What if, instead of setting lofty goals for the months ahead that circle around the type of person you would like to become, you transitioned your resolution into your reality right here and now—today—by pausing?
Pausing is a sacred art.
I learned how to pause last year, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Countless medical appointments and multiple surgeries taught me that pausing—and pausing often—is necessary if we ever want to reconnect to our core selves, away from the constant cultural noise that clutters the innermost corners of our minds. Last year, I had to deeply release the ideas of what I thought I “wanted” to be doing or felt I “should” be doing and surrender myself to what was “needed.” I was only able to make this shift by pausing and pausing often. When we create space to pause—truly pause—we allow ourselves to feel the present moment. Committing to the pause opens space for action rooted in intention rather than reaction.
What would it be like to act on what you envision for yourself—not tomorrow, not next week, but today? To act and to notice how those actions actually feel in your bones. What sensations arise when you pause long enough to stay present with those actions? Do they bring ease, or do they feel restrictive? Do they align with the deeper truth of what your body needs, or do they feel like yet another task imposed by external expectations?
This process of tuning in—of listening deeply—helps us uncover what lies beneath our habits and choices. Often, the habits we’re so quick to cast off at the start of the year are not arbitrary; they’re born from an effort to soothe something deeper. Many of the behaviours we resolve to change—overeating, overspending, overworking—are coping mechanisms that have carried us through tough moments.
This past year, like the one before it, held more than enough reasons to self-soothe. And so, before we leap into reactive resolutions, what if we slowed down? What if we paused to respond rather than react?
This year feels different for me because, most days, it feels as though reactive energy no longer courses through my veins. Perhaps this is because I’ve spent the past two years moving through unexplained symptoms, a diagnosis, and now, as this new year begins, I’m preparing for another surgery to remove a growth nestled deeply inside my body. These experiences have invited me to reflect on my relationship with my body—its needs, its wisdom, and its quiet, persistent calls for care.
Through this journey, I’ve learned to listen differently. I’ve learned to respond rather than push through, to honour rather than ignore. In the process, I’ve come to embody, not cognitively understand, that my body is not an obstacle to overcome or a problem to fix. Instead, it is a home—a sacred, living vessel to inhabit fully, even in discomfort.
This shift has invited me to live into the question: What might it feel like to treat our bodies with reverence—not as projects to perfect, but as partners in our healing and living?
The first month of our shared new year always carries relentless societal messages urging us to “fix” ourselves. January can feel like an assault on our sense of worth, with a barrage of messages trying to convince us that there is something inherently wrong with our bodies—something that demands our immediate reaction. These narratives, often linking worth to physical appearance or productivity, feed a culture of reactivity. They encourage us to act impulsively, often by consuming products or adopting trends that promise transformation but rarely deliver genuine fulfillment.
This cycle of reactivity fuels disembodiment. Neuroscience reminds us that repeated messages shape our neural pathways, reinforcing the idea that we are inadequate as we are. Over time, these messages alienate us from our bodies, creating tension, disconnection, and anxiety. Somatic psychology shows us that this disconnection is not just mental—it lives in the body, manifesting as stored stress, fatigue, or even illness.
These cultural forces pull us further from the truth of who we are and, paradoxically, from the very intentions or resolutions we hope to manifest.
But there is another way. Embodiment—the practice of being fully present in our bodies—offers a quiet, radical resistance. It invites us to turn inward, to listen to the wisdom of our bodies rather than the noise around us. Embodiment is not about adding to the to-do list; it’s about subtracting the static that keeps us from hearing what we truly need.
This year, the only thing I am truly “committing” to is a practice of embodied listening: asking my body what feels genuinely nourishing, life-affirming, and kind—and responding to it with care. I know that this practice will not always be easy. It might mean saying “no” to professional obligations, navigating discomfort in relationships when I express new boundaries, or stepping away from environments that no longer feel supportive. Yet, I also know that embodied listening is not about achieving perfection but about cultivating presence. It’s a way to reclaim agency from the cultural forces that push us to react impulsively, chase productivity or external validation, and instead root ourselves in intentional, responsive choices centred on our core self.
The first month of our shared new year can be an opportunity for reflection, recalibration and responsiveness—a chance to pause and align your actions with what truly feels nourishing by noticing first how you feel when you act out the actions; your mind says you ‘should’ feel good.
You need not rush toward change driven by reactivity this new year. You can do things differently. You can and you will, but first, you must pause.
Here are a few guiding reflections to carry with you:
What does your body truly need right now? Pause and listen—beyond the noise of societal “shoulds.”
How do your habits serve you? Explore the roots of your behaviors, acknowledging their role in soothing or surviving.
What feels nourishing? Move toward what feels life-affirming, even if it’s small and quiet.
How can you embody patience? Healing and growth are not linear but cyclical; trust in the rhythm of your body’s wisdom.
What would it mean to honor this season of rest? Allow yourself to embrace stillness as a powerful part of transformation.