12/28/2025
I read for six clients today in the office. Before closing the door on the year, I turned off the lights and sat in the dark while the rain pressed against the windows. I let the stillness settle and gave thanks. Thanks for my guides. Thanks for my clients, all 807 of them in 2025, not including online gatherings and in person events. Thanks for their loved ones on the other side who stepped in gently and helped create the connections that needed to be made.
As I step toward 2026, I am not asking how I can hustle harder. I am asking how I can move through the world as light.
I want to weave healing into laughter. I want comedy to become a kind of gentle medicine. I want grief to loosen its grip through smiles, through giggles, through the kind of laughter that surprises people when they did not think they were ready for it yet.
I do not want to roam endlessly. I love my home. I love the way my animals gather around me like a small sacred circle while I curl into the couch and let the edges of the world soften.
My body has been asking for care. In 2025, my immune and autoimmune struggles spoke louder than my spirit at times. In 2026, I am listening differently. With devotion. With patience. With the understanding that healing is not a race but a relationship.
I want to clear what no longer belongs. I want to release the weight of things I have kept out of obligation or guilt. Beauty does not need excess to exist. And I do not owe my energy to anyone but myself.
There are books waiting to be born. I have felt their hesitation mirror my own, doubt lingering near the publish button like a fog that refuses to lift. But fear does not get to decide what comes into the world anymore.
I do not want a crowded calendar. I want one that feels aligned. Intentional. True.
I do not seek fame. I do not long to be a household name. I smile when people tell me they have never heard of me, because recognition has never been the measure of purpose.
If you find me, you were meant to. If you do not, that too is part of the design.
2026 is not about becoming more. It is about becoming clearer. It is about living gently, choosing meaning over noise, and trusting that what is meant to meet me will find its way.
So now I’m home, listening to the rain as it washes away 2025. It floods, it cleanses, it releases, and I let it take what I no longer need to hold in order to make space for the new.