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Hi Reader,

Let’s be honest—2025 was a lot.

It gave. It took. It stretched. It whispered, then shouted, “Are you paying attention yet?”

I was. Eventually.

Somewhere between the deadlines, the drafts, and the heartbreak of losing my long-time partner, I learned that deep rest isn’t laziness. It’s medicine. When I finally stopped running on fumes, the silence had something to say. And what it said was this: You can’t create from exhaustion.

I also learned that shedding what no longer serves me—old projects, outdated expectations, and a few should-have-known-better habits—isn’t loss. It’s clarity. Which, fittingly enough, made sense in the Year of the Snake—the year of shedding skins, old identities, and, in my case, a business plan I’d chucked out the window by the end of January. And honestly, it felt great.

There’s power in letting things (and people, and plans) fall away so you can see what’s still standing with you.

So as 2026 starts to hum to life, I’m not making resolutions. I’m making space.

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Space for words that mean something.

Space for joy that isn’t scheduled.

Space for whatever wants to be written next.

Your turn.

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What did 2025 teach you the hard way? What are you bringing forward, and what are you leaving right where it belongs—in the past?

Hit reply and tell me. I promise to read every response (preferably with coffee in hand and my laptop exactly where it belongs—on the kitchen table covered in Post-its).

Here’s to rest, release, and whatever brave new stories 2026 has in store.

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Best,