Choosing ease in a world that profits from pushing
Well, it's official - we're fully into 2026! I'm trying to welcome the new with open arms, but if I'm honest, 2025 left me feeling a little shell-shocked and apprehensive. đ
Everywhere you look, you see it: the whole New Year, New You campaign. And while I do understand the need to reset, and how the beginning of the year can be a powerful catalyst, I also think this messaging often leaves people feeling like theyâre somehow behind before the year has even really begun.
The fitness industry is just that, an industry. It's predicted that the new year, new you campaign will bring in $60 billion in revenue. SIXTY. BILLION. DOLLARS.
A significant portion of that revenue comes from people who sign up with the best intentions⊠and then donât consistently attend. And the hardest part for me? The industry not only knows this, but it also counts on it.
They also know that statistically, only 9% of people maintain their New Year's resolutions.
This is exactly why I gave up on New Year's Resolutions many years ago.
Like most people, Iâd come out of the holiday season knowing I needed a reset. And instead of returning to the small, steady practices that actually make me feel good throughout the year, Iâd decide I needed a full overhaul.
If you've been here for any length of time, you know Iâm a big advocate for small steps, the kind that compound over time and lead to change that actually lasts.
Which, of course, is the exact opposite of a total life overhaul.
The results I got reflected the approach I was taking, and they were, unsurprisingly, pretty miserable.
After years of doing this, I decided there had to be a better way.
What I began doing instead was choosing one word to act as a guiding light for the year. Something to return to when making decisions, when things felt unclear, or when I needed to check whether I was still aligned with what I wanted to create.
Last year, my word was grow. And, man, did 2025 take that assignment seriously.
At times, growth was incredibly painful, as it often is. It asked me to step into roles I wasnât sure I wanted, and stretched me in ways I didnât anticipate when I chose that word. But Iâm so grateful I said yes, because I grew in ways I never could have imagined.
And growth wasnât all hard. It also brought beautiful opportunities to travel, share yoga, meet new people, and deepen relationships with students and coaching clients I truly adore.
Every time I wasn't sure which direction to go, I sat with my word and reminded myself that growing isn't always rainbows and butterflies. But all growth, and often especially painful growth, leaves you changed in meaningful ways.
As 2026 approached, I kept waiting for my word to come to me. And it took its sweet time.
I think 2025 taught me to be more intentional and discerning about what I invite in.
But eventually, it came.
My word for 2026 is ease.
I have a long history of pushing. Itâs been my default since childhood, shaped in part by years as a competitive swimmer and the mantra drilled into me early on: No pain, no gain.
Iâve spent most of my life trying to unwind that belief. Iâve made progress, but clearly itâs a lifelong practice.
This year, I want things to be softer. Gentler.
I want to be softer and gentler.
I want more ease in my relationship with myself and with others.
More ease in my work.
More ease in how I move through life.
I donât want to constantly fight what is out of fear of how things might turn out.
So instead of resolutions or reinvention, Iâm choosing something quieter this year.
A word I can come back to.
A reminder that life doesnât have to be so hard to be meaningful.
If youâre feeling resistant to the ânew year, new youâ noise, or just a little tired from all the pushing, I want you to know youâre not alone.
Maybe your year doesnât need fixing.
Maybe it just needs a little more room to breathe.
PS: Ease doesnât need to be earned. And, if a word is beginning to take shape for you, even loosely, Iâd love to hear what you come up with. Hit reply and let me know.