A New Year’s Wish for You

May we be changed by what we’ve lost, without being defined by it.
May we carry forward what the year taught us, and leave behind what it demanded at too high a cost.

May we stop rushing to “move on” from the tender places.
May we see vulnerability not as a detour, but as an honest entrance—
the doorway to a life that feels more real.

May we love our people with presence, not possession.
May we remember how briefly we are permitted
to share a table, a home, a conversation, a season.

May we find steadiness when things are noisy.
May we learn the quiet skills—breathing, pausing, returning—
and trust that calm is not the absence of chaos,
but the choice to meet it without losing ourselves.

May we give our attention to what sustains us:
the first cup of tea, the light through the window,
a simple meal, a kind word, a moment of laughter
that surprises us into hope.

May we learn to see beauty without requiring perfection.
May we remember that every face has been shaped by weather and time,
by love and by disappointment,
by endurance we can’t always see.

May we loosen the need to be right, to be recognised, to be rewarded.
May we be willing to be humbled by what embarrasses us,
and to discover what that discomfort is trying to teach.

May we act from sincerity more often than from performance.
May we stay open to the small instructions the day offers—
the quiet nudge to apologise, to reach out, to rest,
to begin again.

May we release a little suffering—not all at once
but steadily, like setting down a heavy bag
we’ve been carrying too long.

May we wake each morning with gratitude
for the plain miracle of it—
eyes opening, breath returning,
a body willing, however imperfectly, to rise.

December 31, 2025