** No New Year’s Resolutions for Me **

Welcome to a New Year—a season brimming with hope, shiny resolutions, and grand plans to transform, improve, and manifest greatness. Sounds invigorating, doesn’t it? Or maybe… exhausting? Stressful? A touch like life handed you homework with a due date labeled ASAP? Yeah, I thought so. Let’s reconsider this whole approach.

Since my grand misadventure in Italy and Corsica this past September (details here: A Crash Course in Surrender—grab popcorn), I’ve declared myself officially on sabbatical. Or, as I like to call it, a sacred pause. Imagine hitting “snooze” on the universe’s alarm clock—blissful, right? No spreadsheets of goals, no deadlines breathing ominously down my neck, and absolutely no bucket lists whispering, “Psst, tick me off!”

Instead, I’ve been gently bobbing along in what I’d describe as a liminal sea of surrender—drifting in the soothing currents of patience, healing, and trust. No striving, no manifesting, no overachieving attempts to arm-wrestle fate into submission. Just me, some cozy stillness, and a splash of optimism, swaying in the hammock of the unknown like it’s custom-made for moments like this.

Here’s the funny thing: every time I’ve found myself in this state, the “what’s next” has been downright extraordinary—better than anything I could’ve Frankensteined together on a vision board. And at 72, there’s something ridiculously freeing about finally loosening my grip on the reins of life. What used to feel terrifying—the vast unknown—now feels like that one quirky friend who always shows up with surprise gifts.

Sure, I could live without gravity’s creative interpretations of my face and body, but my soul? Oh, honey, she’s radiant, wise, and strutting into this next chapter like it’s a red carpet event. Because here’s the secret: sometimes destiny has a flair for plot twists that my ego could never dream up.

So, as we tiptoe into another January, here’s my sage advice: skip the overwhelming to-do lists. Resist the urge to fix, improve, or overhaul your life—at least for now. Take a breath. Take a beat. Lean into the mystery with trust. Life has a spectacularly funny way of working itself out when you stop micromanaging it.

And remember, the best surprises? They’re the ones you never saw coming.

Trust the process.

Arielle