Happy New Year!

When I was younger, I thought the New Year was a fresh start. A chance to rebuild myself— and my habits— from scratch.

I’d make resolutions and plans and lists . . . in my brand-new planner, of course!

And I’d twist myself in knots, trying to reconstruct my personality into someone I’d never been: Perhaps this is the year that I’ll become a new person, a better version of myself?

Perhaps.

But the older I get, the more I realize it’s not true: the new year doesn’t represent a fresh start. Far from it.

Instead, the new year is merely another in a long series of opportunities to continue growing— from right here where you are this minute.

A younger me might have been disappointed by this realization.

But, disappointed or not, it is a reality.

You see, as a young person, I got lulled into the hype. The marketing. The allure of the blank calendar.

Hidden in the hype, though, is the assumption that there’s something magical about a new year. The hope that suddenly on January 1st,

• I’ll want to walk in the cold rain of the Pacific Northwest each morning instead of reading with a blanket in my comfy chair.
  ​
• Or that it’ll be easy to turn down freshly baked scones . . . or ice cream . . . or bagels slathered with butter.
  ​
• Or that I’ll finally be able to will my way to better relationships with family members (some of whom I’ve known literally since birth).

But those unspoken assumptions feed into my negative thoughts.

Because, if I can start from scratch this year, why didn’t I do it last year? (Or one of the 50+ years before that?)

Thankfully, my older self knows that I can’t start from scratch.

I’m reminded of a joke I heard recently:

A group of scientists got together and decided that we no longer need God. After all, they reasoned, we can clone life, create molecules, defy the laws of physics, and perform many other modern miracles.

“At this point, I bet we can even create human life— just like you did— all by ourselves,” he said.

“Okay,” said God. “Give it a try.”

The scientist leaned down and picked up a handful of dirt.

“Eh, eh, eh,” God said. “Get your own dirt.”

We can’t build ourselves up from scratch.

Because we’ve already been created. And we’ve been endowed with specific DNA and our own unique, experience-based idiosyncrasies.

My younger self would have been discouraged: If I can’t start from scratch, that means I’ll have to undo each of my habits one by one.

It sounds like hard work.

But that’s the thing: we never rebuild all of our habits from scratch. We always start from where we’re at. And, although it can seem like a tough path to walk, the reality is that starting fresh would be even harder. I dare say, it would be impossible.

Carl Sagan said it more succinctly than the joke does: “If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe.”

Can we improve ourselves? Absolutely.

But, short of a huge divine intervention, it won’t happen in one fell swoop.

Change occurs moment-by-moment, choice-by-choice. (The good changes and the bad.)

Author James Clear reminds us that “every action is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.”

Have big goals; that’s fine.

But know that they will only ever be achieved step by painstakingly small step— beginning from where you are right now.

So instead of making long lists of all the things you must do to change yourself in the next 365 days, why not carry the following question with you each morning:

Who do I want to be— or how do I want to feel— going forward?

Then cast your vote to become that person with tiny actions starting from exactly where you are.

Here’s wishing you an amazing 2026!

Hugs & Blessings,
Kendra