BEGIN WITH ONE WORD

There’s a lot of pressure at the start of a new year to reinvent yourself.

To fix what’s unfinished.
To become more disciplined, more productive, more something.

But there is another way to begin—one that doesn’t demand reinvention, only honesty.

Instead of resolutions, I choose a word.

A single word that feels like an anchor.

A word I can return to when the world feels noisy, when expectations pile up, when I forget myself.

Why a Word, Not a Resolution
Resolutions tend to be rigid. They demand consistency, discipline, and results. And when life inevitably shifts—as it always does—those resolutions often turn into reminders of what we didn’t complete.

A word is different.

A word doesn’t ask you to perform.
It asks you to pay attention.

It becomes a lens you look through when making decisions, setting boundaries, or choosing how to spend your energy. It meets you where you are, instead of where you think you should be.

The Right Word Is Felt, Not Chosen
The right word usually isn’t aspirational—it’s honest. It doesn’t come from trends, it comes from lived experience.

It often points to:

• What you’re craving
• What you’re ready to release
• Or what you’re finally ready to protect

Sometimes the word feels grounding (Rooted).
Sometimes it feels freeing (Unencumbered).
Sometimes it feels like a quiet reclaiming (Sovereign).

If a word feels a little uncomfortable, but grounding and intriguing, that’s often the one.

Finding Your Word
Instead of asking “What do I want to accomplish?” try asking:

• What drained me last year?
• Where did I abandon myself?
• What do I want to protect?
• How do I want to feel when things get hard?

Then listen—not for the loudest answer, but the calmest one that keeps resurfacing.

You don’t need to force it. The right word has a way of repeating itself quietly until you’re ready to listen.

Let the Word Guide, Not Control
Your word isn’t a rule.
It’s a compass.

When something comes up—a commitment, an opportunity, a request—you can ask:
“Does this support my word?”

If it does, move forward.
If it doesn’t, you’re allowed to pause, adjust, or say no.

Some days you’ll live your word beautifully.
Some days you’ll forget it entirely.

Both are part of the practice.

Carry It With You
Write your word where you’ll see it.
Or wear your word where you can feel it.

Keep it close when guilt or urgency creeps in. Let it guide you back to yourself when you drift.

A new year doesn’t require a new you.

Sometimes, it simply asks for a truer one, and one quiet word is enough to begin.

If you’re still searching, give yourself time. The right word has a way of finding you when you’re ready to listen.

In the meantime, here are some suggested words :