Posted on January 1, 2026

The new year has a way of arriving with noise. 

Plans. Promises. Pressure to declare who we are becoming before we have even finished understanding who we have been. 

This year, I am choosing something quieter. 

Between sessions there is a pause most people never see. A moment after the door closes. A breath before the next note is written. A stretch of time where nothing is required except presence.

That space matters.

In my work, progress is rarely loud. Growth often shows up as a pause, a hesitation, a child thinking before answering, a parent or caregiver asking a different question than they did last month. It is subtle. Easy to miss if you are rushing to measure outcomes to quickly. 

Life feels the same.

This season I am less interested in grand declarations and more curious about what is unfolding slowly. 

What I am learning.

What I am unlearning.

What feels steady instead of impressive. 

I am learning that clarity does not always come from deciding. Sometimes it comes for noticing. 

Noticing what I return to when no one is watching. Noticing which ideas keep tapping on my shoulder. Noticing which parts of myself feel calm instead of productive.

I am unlearning the belief that everything must be figured out before it is shared. That certainty is required before movement. That rest is something earned instead of necessary.

Between sessions I am allowing thoughts to remain unfinished. Plans to stay flexible. Curiosity to lead instead of urgency.

This year is not about doing more. It is about listening better.

Listening to my work. My body. My creativity. The quiet nudges that do not shout but persist. 

If you are reading this and feeling behind, unsure, or quietly hopeful without knowing why, your are not late. You are likely in the middle of something forming. 

Between sessions is where that happens.

This year, you are allowed to think slowly. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to begin without announcing it.

We will take this year one pause at a time. 

...and guess what?

...that will be enough.