Everywhere right now, the message is loud and insistent: go, go, go.
Fix. Heal. Change. Do. Become.

And yet… most of us know how this story goes:

The surge of motivation, the shiny resolution, and then — the inevitable crash — followed by a quiet shame spiral that whispers, Why can’t I just stick with it? What is wrong with me?

As I watch this familiar cycle spin up again this year, something new has been awakening in me:

We were never designed to drop deeply-ingrained patterns overnight and replace them with something “better.” That kind of instant transformation doesn’t align with how our brains or bodies actually change, so we naturally resist it — and often end up sabotaging ourselves. Much like the myth of the American Dream, New Year’s resolutions promise something lofty to reach for, but rarely provide the structure or support most of us need to truly get there.

And still… we are resilient.
We are capable of meaningful change.

Just not through force — and very rarely through sheer willpower (which, let’s be honest, is trained to abort the moment the initial luster wears thin).

Here’s what’s actually happening right now.

We are still in the season of Yule — a time meant for rest, surrender, and being held by the dark. A liminal space where we soften, observe, heal, and begin to dream.

We’re also closing out the Year of the Snake (in the Chinese lunisolar calendar), which carries the medicine of shedding — releasing what no longer fits or serves us, without rushing to replace it.

The seeds aren’t supposed to sprout yet.

This is the time of gently choosing what we want to grow, and beginning to place those seeds into the dark soil — soil that must itself be tended and nourished if it’s going to support the life we’re asking it to hold.

There will be a time for movement.

February 1st marks the beginning of Imbolc — the quiet awakening beneath the surface, when the light returns a little more noticeably and the first impulses of life begin to stir. And shortly after that, on February 17th, we’ll enter the bold, expansive energy of the Fire Horse. But we’re not there yet. The Chinese new lunar year hasn’t actually begun.

So while our minds may already be leaning forward — sensing the rumble of “new energy” — our bodies are often still inviting us into this season:
a season of nesting, peace, and medicinal stillness.
A season of resting more, worrying less, and handing over what feels heavy to whatever higher power we relate to.
A season of trusting what’s unfolding, even when we can’t yet see it.

When we resist that invitation, we create internal discord and miss the particular magic of dormancy — of waiting. Of soaking in slowness and downtime so that, when Fire Horse season arrives, we actually have the clarity and bandwidth to run.

To be clear — this isn’t easy for me.

Once the kids are in bed and I finally have unclaimed time, it’s hard to trade that freedom for another hour or two of sleep. My ego-self is loud. It tells me I’ll miss out. That more sleep is insignificant. That it won’t really matter.

But my body tells a different story.
It whispers: Come and find out.
Find out what it feels like to be rested.
To be nourished.
To honor yourself and unlock more of your power.

So instead of shaming myself, I’m choosing curiosity. What would it feel like to actually be rested during the day? What might I accomplish if I weren’t often tired? Would I reach my goals more consistently, and even enjoy my life more? And my kids? I’m leaning into finding out.

I’m also practicing letting go of worry — the kind that shows up as clenched jaws at night, or as hesitation to speak up to the people who know me best as I change and begin to need different things.

This morning, during meditation, my Guides helped me loosen my grip on that worry — to rest into the fertile void of this season, letting it hold me as I gently rebuild and prepare to move back into the world in a new way. I know I can’t release these long-held “truths” alone. I need support — and this season of intentional shedding and surrender has finally opened me to receive it.

So I’ll ask you this gently:

Is it hard for you to change patterns, even when you want to?
Is it hard to rest when your body is asking for it, but the “civilized” world keeps saying no?
Is it hard to trust the unfolding — even when part of you senses something wiser is trying to move through?

If so, I’d love to walk with you.

On January 8, we’ll gather for Rising into 2026 — a spacious, grounding container to reflect, release, and orient toward what’s next without rushing the process. It’s not about resolutions. It’s about awareness, nervous system support, and making change in ways that actually last.

If that feels nourishing, you’re warmly invited.

 

What Else is Happening This January (2026)

If you’re feeling the pull for support — whether through community, rest, or more personalized guidance — here are a few ways to be held during this season:

✨Unbecoming “Karen” Livestream | January 15st, 2025 (Virtual)
A candid, heart-centered conversation on healing internalized conditioning and reclaiming conscious choice.

✨Sound Healing Journeys at Family Care Collective | January 15th & 29th, 2026 (Denver, CO)
Two upcoming opportunities to rest your nervous system, soften your body, and be held by sound.

However you choose to enter this season, may you do it with more kindness toward yourself than ever before.

With love,

Clarissa