It's 2026 and
My family says how you start the new year is how you live the year.
Last year I distilled everything down to an overflowing handful.
I can’t help but want to grab at excess, reach towards extra. I like to go fast enough to taste the blur of life, but last year I slowed down.
I was slowed down.
It could have been my last year ever, and I wanted to sit with every drop of the blur and give it gratitude or grace, or just little limelight. I kissed every teaspoon of my life, and palmed just a scoop of it to go with me into the next.
And then, in the middle of the year, the world turned over, and suddenly I was built for stay. The earth gripped both my ankles tight. I had another second chance, maybe my hundredth.
At some point in life, you stop counting the rounds.
I kept to the distillation process. The slow work of learning my life. The slow work of undressing the habits until only what is necessary remains. There’s not a process for this, no math or magic lens. I think what is necessary depends on who you are, between your skeleton and your routines.
For me, skincare was not necessary; taking pictures of every onion I cut open was. Some work toward beauty was extra, and some work toward beauty was essential. Every day, the earth would grab my foot before it took off spinning, holding me with only the love I poured into every onion I was ever graced to eat.
This year, I would like to invite back a little excess, a little unnecessary. I want to think about where I will let this invitation slide from my tongue, or drip from my fingers. I want to walk into a space with the spine to meet it.
I want good posture.
pos·ture. /ˈpäsCHər/. noun
the position in which someone holds their body when standing or sitting.
a particular way of dealing with or considering something; an approach or attitude.
I want to think about my approach back into a full life. I want to think carefully before I blur, if I do so again. I want to think about my spine every single day, and the courage of my life, and the span of it. I want to practice flexibility in a way that gives me range of motion, range of possible.
I want to have good posture in every area of my life. I want to feel the earth’s hold on my ankles. I want to look forward, stand up straight, and lend my bones to the sky.


