“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.”
~Rainer Maria Rilke
For some of us, the New Year is like striking a match. There’s a spark, a brief burst of optimism, and suddenly we’re vowing to be a better version of ourselves. We’ll lose the weight, exercise more, stop procrastinating, become wildly consistent, and possibly achieve inner peace by February.
But like a match, that energy often burns brightly and then fizzles out, usually before January reaches double digits.
For a long time, I fell firmly into this camp. I set multiple goals across many categories, many of them focused on outcomes I couldn’t fully control. The process carried a quiet pressure to perform, to get it right, and to measure success by December 31. Which, in hindsight, feels a lot like creating a self-imposed performance review, one you’re almost guaranteed to fail.
So, a while back, I simplified the process and increased my chances of feeling good about myself at the end of the year. I stopped setting long lists of goals and started choosing a single word instead.
A Word as a Compass
A word doesn’t give you a to-do list. It gives you a compass.
It shapes how you want to move through the year. It becomes something you can return to when you’re unsure, stretched, or tempted to rush into decisions simply to feel productive.
To make this process practical and accessible, I’ve created a simple Word-for-the-Year Reflection Template you can download and use. It includes prompts to help you choose a word, test whether it can actually guide you, and capture it in a one-page format you can revisit throughout the year.
What Changed When I Chose a Word
Last year, my word was peace.
I chose it deliberately. I wanted peace. Peace in the world, in how I worked, how I made decisions, and how I held uncertainty. I used it as a quiet filter, often asking myself: Does this choice give me peace, or does it take it away?
As we know, the world did not become more peaceful. But I did.
That word changed what I said yes to. It softened how I responded when plans shifted or outcomes were slower than expected. It reminded me that peace wasn’t something to earn or protect fiercely; it was something to practice, moment by moment.
That experience reinforced something I now trust deeply. A well-chosen word has power, not because it fixes anything externally, but because it changes how we show up.
Choosing a Word You Can Live With
As I look ahead to the coming year, my word is freedom.
For me, freedom isn’t about escape or opting out. It’s about choosing my path with clarity. Letting go of expectations that don’t belong to me. Staying responsible for what matters most while holding outcomes with an open heart and open hands.
It’s also about curiosity and openness. Allowing things to unfold without needing to control every step. Trusting the wisdom of the ancients, that if I keep showing up with intention, the path will reveal itself. (And reminding myself of that when impatience taps me on the shoulder.)
This is what I appreciate about choosing a word. It doesn’t require certainty. It offers orientation.
A Word Is Practiced, Not Perfected
If you’re curious about choosing a word for yourself, here are a few things I’ve learned along the way.
1. First, this works best when the word feels alive for you. A helpful test is to imagine a difficult moment, a hard conversation, a disappointing outcome, or an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. If your word helps you respond with more clarity or steadiness there, you’re on the right track. Trust the nudge. The word is often closer than you think.
2. Second, a word becomes meaningful through practice. It’s something you return to in small, everyday moments. When you’re deciding how to respond. What to say yes to. Where to place your energy. A word earns its place by being lived, not admired.
3. Third, your word can evolve. Growth has a way of asking us to update our language as we learn more about ourselves. Revisiting or refining your word mid-year is awareness, not inconsistency.
4. And finally, this isn’t a performance. You don’t need to announce your word, explain it, or live it perfectly. Think of it as a quiet companion rather than a public promise. Something that brings you back to yourself when things feel noisy or unclear.
A Quiet Companion for the Year Ahead
The reflection template I’ve created is designed with this spirit in mind. It offers structure without rigidity, clarity without pressure, and space to reflect without overthinking. There’s even a built-in mid-year check-in, framed as a pause rather than a review.
If you choose to use it, my invitation is simple: treat your word as a compass, not a contract.
Let it guide you. Let it steady you. Let it surprise you. And let it remind you of who you want to be, especially when the year unfolds differently than planned.
Happy New Year.
