The first day back into the grind of everyday life was, to put it bluntly, rough. Waking up to an alarm clock instead of the natural rhythms of my body. Having the longest laundry list of things I need to do. Being once again glued to my computer screen, stuck in back-to-back meetings. Man, the first-day-back fuzzies are all too real.

During the break, I retreated back into my little dark cave to ponder. Sure, I spent countless hours doing a whole lot of nothing (re-watching the entire Harry Potter & The Lord of the Rings series and eating a ton of chocolate), but I also gave myself some space to think in stillness. And while I was mulling over a myriad of existential topics, my mind naturally wandered over to “What’s next?”

Over the past 6 months, I’ve been working on building a body of work (yes, you are reading a piece of it right now), but it got me thinking about what I wanted to leave behind in 2025 versus what I wanted to usher into the New Year. Because not everything can come with us.

I hope 2026 is the year we can all start…

making room for diverse voices.

I know there’s been a lot of discourse around diversity and inclusion, but it often feels so performative. We gotta do better. Creative work feels so flat when only a small select group of people are let into the room. Let this year be the year we break in. Open up seats, create new stages for new voices, and celebrate others’ perspectives (instead of jumping to conclusions and judging them). It’s soooo needed in the world right now.

letting the process be messy.

Life is messy, so of course the creative process—if it’s got any soul—is going to be messy. Let it. In the world of AI, messy is human. Showcase your messy process. Publish from the messy middle. Typos be damned!

writing for connection.

Write with the intention to forge a sense of belonging, to make others feel seen, to foster a sense of meaningful connection. It’s so much more powerful than writing just to sell things.

prioritizing truth over polish.

Stop self-editing before you finish. Stop censoring your thoughts before you can figure out what you’re trying to say. Creative work doesn’t need to be perfect. In fact, it shouldn’t be. Instead, aim for what’s real. What you feel in your bones. What you simply cannot shake. Always go with that.

If you’re looking for a messy creative session, join us on 1/11 for a Rage & Write: The Magic Dark workshop. It’s a safe space to come together in community to write about the things that are shaking us to the core, and we release them via guided breathwork and writing prompts. Blocked emotions be damned! If this feels like something you’re into, come on in.