January has a way of stretching longer than it should. Maybe it’s the weight of new beginnings, the push to make resolutions stick, or the slow unraveling of holiday warmth into the crispness of routine. I don’t mind, though; January is my birth month. It is a time of reflection, of looking both forward and back, of feeling the fullness of another year lived.

2025 came around and I had no resolutions, no goal-setting in hand. I was just getting through my days and surviving each one of them as they came along. Heck, I didn’t even celebrate it with a bang, maybe with a few, short-lived sparkles (literally). I like how low-key that was. How quietly it just eased in.

With the Chinese New Year festivities around the corner, it feels like another invitation to reset. Another chance to step into the newness of things, to realign and embrace the energy of what’s to come. Traditionally, people roll out their plans, crafting resolutions that, more often than not, come with the pressure of expectation. For years, I followed suit. There’s something comforting about the collective hope a new year brings, a shared belief in fresh starts. But as I’ve grown, I’ve learned that the best time to begin again is now, whenever that now may be.

My longtime friend, RF, once told me he treats the month of January like a free trial, like a period to explore, adjust, and ease into the rhythm of the year before committing. It’s a sentiment that has stayed with me for two years now, and this time, I’m embracing it fully. No pressure, no rigid resolutions - just a conscious unfolding, a gentle allowing.

Yet, there is one ritual I keep close to: choosing a word of the year. Unlike resolutions, it isn’t a rigid checklist but a guiding star, a whisper of intention that shapes my choices. This year, my words found me early, towards the end of November, as if preparing me for what’s ahead.

Soft & Flow

For so long, I’ve worked tirelessly on “making my dreams come true”, on healing, on self-discovery, on finding my place in the world. I’ve done the inner work, untangled past narratives, and carved out spaces of growth. Now, I want to rest. Not in a passive, stagnant way, but in a way that honors the journey I’ve taken. I want to move through life with softness, to flow with ease rather than force.

It’s easy to believe that rest is something we must earn, something reserved for later—for retirement, for weekends, for vacations. But what if we allowed ourselves to rest now? To live now? To embody the life we’ve envisioned without waiting for permission?

Every decision I make this year will honor these two words: soft and flow. It will be a constant reminder to move with gentleness, to trust the current rather than fight against it. To let go of the need to control every outcome and instead surrender to the unfolding of things.

To bring this vision to life, I attempted to create a vision board. In past years, this exercise excited me, filling me with anticipation. But this time, I found myself okay with the blank canvas. Perhaps that’s the point, no? To let life paint the picture as I go. To embrace the unknown and trust that the right images, the right moments, will find their place in time.

Words of the year

Looking back at the words that have guided me over the years, I see a story unfolding, a journey of becoming. Each word seems to build upon the last, telling a story of growth, self-awareness, and a gradual shift from seeking stability to embracing movement with ease.

2019: Calm

2020: Breathe (I think, I lost trace)

2021: Refresh, relax, rest

2022: Dahan-dahan lang (slowly, gently) in Filipino

2023: Anchor

2024: Flourish

2025: Soft & Flow

Each year has led me to this moment. Each word is a stepping stone to the next. And now, I stand here, ready to embrace softness, to surrender to flow, to trust that the life I’ve been building is already mine to live.

May we all find our own guiding words, our rhythms, and the courage to embrace life exactly as it unfolds.