As we are approaching the end of the year, I have been thinking a lot about my intentions for the one to come. Not resolutions; never resolutions. There is something deeply unsatisfactory to me about the concept of a resolution. It denotes finality – a made-up, closed mind – and that is not the energy I want to bring forward with me. An intention leaves room for the world to surprise me and to teach me, and for me to surprise myself and to grow. It’s a direction – and, make no mistake, a very clear and definite direction – but it’s not a destination.

For a few years now (since reading Rick Rubin’s The Creative Life) my motto has been “living in discovery”. This, in turn, breaks down to two guiding principles: curiosity and humility. To these, last year I added a couple of other mantras to use as my life compass.

The small joys of everyday moments, and

Beauty in overlooked places

I wrote these things down in my journal, because there is something very satisfying about physically writing out the words. [I’ve heard there may even be some science behind this, but who knows how much you can trust the internet about stuff like that.] Then I added three more items, under the heading of ‘goals’ which, in retrospect, was a misnomer but let’s go with it. Here’s what they were:

  1. Figure out my writing conundrum
  2. Create memories with my family
  3. Walk 14,000 steps a day

Care to guess which one of these three goals didn’t come to fruition? Yes, that’s right: the one that most reads like a typical ‘resolution’. But I’ll come back to that in a moment.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t even remember now what, precisely, I had in mind when I wrote ‘writing conundrum’. I think it had to do with feeling creatively stuck after deciding, earlier in 2024, to permanently shelve the memoir I’d written. I know that, for a time, that decision felt like I was surrendering my passion and my purpose; it left me quite bereft, especially as I struggled for months to figure out how to move on … and what to move on to. Yeah, I guess you’d call that a conundrum. But instead of trying to come up with a solution on the spot – to satisfy the arbitrariness of January 1 as a deadline – I just wrote down my intention. The time hadn’t yet come for the answer to reveal itself to me, and I’m glad I didn’t try to rush it. An un-timely answer is often a wrong answer …

Well, we all know what happened next. Randomly, in the middle of January, I felt this overwhelming urge to start writing – and I knew exactly what I wanted to write. Fiction. Mystery + romance, inspired by Agatha Christie and Georgette Heyer. And the words just flowed and flowed. It felt like kismet.

What came after that didn’t feel nearly as smooth, lol! As the year progressed, I made a bunch of new writing goals for myself … and un-made them … and re-made them … and, well, you get the picture. My writing journey this year has been the definition of living in discovery. And if curiosity and humility were not my twin pillars, I would have crashed and burned SO MANY times. No, let me rephrase that: I would have crashed and burned and never got up, dusted myself off, and kept going. I am ending the year in a place that doesn’t quite look like any of the versions/destinations I dreamt up along the way, but which makes me feel content with my progress. I’ve written five (whole!) books that I love – and learned a tremendous amount in the process – and am getting ready to publish one of them. As a bonus, I feel reconnected to my writing across all platforms, and with my audience too. If that’s not figuring out my writing conundrum, I don’t know what it.

So, for 2026, my intention is simply this: to grow as a writer and find new and exciting horizons.

My second 2025 intention is fairly self-explanatory, I think, and it worked well for me as a reminder to find and savour the small joys. For my family, creating memories is not about big events or milestone celebrations, but about laughing together and enjoying each other’s company every day. I am loving this stage of my kids’ adolescence – they are truly so much fun to get to know as people. Together, and with my husband, we are creating small, everyday rituals of companionship and connection. Things like, Saturday lunch at our fave restaurant; watching 20-year old sitcoms together; summer day trips out of town; weekend library dates; etc. etc. I’ve learned that it’s these small moments that my kids often come back to, years later, talking about them as fond memories. They are the glue that hold us together as a family – seemingly insignificant but foundational.

More of this for 2026 too: create small rituals and memories with my family every day.

As I have been reflecting recently on my experience of purpose this year, I realized that, in addition to writing, there is something else that also feels very meaningful and purpose-filled to me. Mentorship. I value personal growth and it’s something I want everyone to experience. Fostering connection and making space for others to pursue personal growth is deeply satisfying. For now, I am still sitting with the question of ‘how can I put this purpose into practice?’ There are many possibilities – consider, for example, how “personal coaching” has become a cottage industry – and I feel that most of them are probably not aligned with my purpose. So careful, considered reflection is required. No rushing.

For 2026, my intention is: look for opportunities to foster curiosity, connection, and growth.

Right now, I have no idea what this means or how it might pan out … and that’s really, really exciting!

Ok, last word on last’s year’s last goal. Here’s what happened: I walked 14,000 a day for about 2 months, after which, my knees suddenly gave out. I had been walking about 10K-11K per day for months before that, so the whole thing took me by surprise. Why would my body react like that? Wasn’t more exercise always better? This is what I learned: setting arbitrary goals simply to beat a record isn’t helpful. I was doing fine walking 10K steps a day, and walking more didn’t improve my physical conditioning in any measurable way – actually, it made it worse. The important thing was the intention to keep my body moving and take care of it as I age. Eating well, getting enough sleep, moving my body, keeping my brain active – these are all important, but they don’t need to be tied to specific quantitative goals. Part of it is listening to my body and adjusting what I do to meet its needs. So, yeah, I didn’t manage to walk 14K steps a day for a year … but I did walk 10K steps, 6 days per week, which turned out to be just fine.

So, for 2026, my intention is: listen to, take care of, and enjoy living in my body.

And I have decided that my theme/guiding principle for 2026 is “accelerating momentum”. It encapsulates the feeling that I’m taking into the new year: I am ready to build on everything that has come before and discover new horizons.

What are your intentions, goals, or resolutions for 2026?

5 Comments on Setting Intentions for the Next Chapter

  1. Thanks for sharing! Having been through a similar walking issue, I’d suggest you check out your walking shoes if you haven’t already — might you be due for a new pair? Cushy walking/running shoes have a finite shelf life. You may also consider having your gait and instep assessed at a running shoe store and getting a pair that gives your particular foot shape the support it needs for long mileage.

  3. Five books in a year is absolutely incredible! I especially love that you shifted from a shelved memoir to mystery and romance. It is so funny how our brains work when we stop forcing them to follow a deadline. I have been stuck on a ‘conundrum’ of my own lately, so your story about kismet in January gives me so much hope to just let the words flow when they are ready.

    • Well, they’re not all proper books just yet … five first drafts, one-and-a-half finished books is probably more accurate, lol!

      Trust yourself to know when it’s time to start. But I would also say that, once you start, the key to finishing is to make writing a non-negotiable practice and make room for it in your life. You might not feel inspired to write every day, but if you write, the words *will* come. And you only need to worry about how they flow during editing.