The Year I Didn’t Set Any Intentions

January is usually my thing.

I like the review.
I like the reflection.
I like the clean notebook, the quiet thinking, the gentle sense of starting again.

So at the start of this year, I did what I always do. I looked back at the year before. What worked, what didn’t. What I wanted more of, what I was ready to leave behind. That part felt familiar and grounding.

Then I got to the next step.
Setting intentions for the year ahead.

And nothing happened.

No word.
No theme.
No pull in any direction.

It felt like hitting a brick wall.

At first, I told myself I just needed more time. That clarity would come if I sat with it a bit longer. So I left it and came back to it a few days later.

Still nothing.

That was new for me. And uncomfortable.

Because when January rolls around, we’re surrounded by momentum. New year, new you. Fresh starts. Goals. Plans. The sense that you should be deciding something about who you’re going to be for the next twelve months.

And there I was, with a blank page and no desire to fill it.

For a while, I worried that I was doing something wrong. That maybe I was missing an opportunity. That not choosing an intention meant drifting, or lacking direction, or somehow wasting the fresh start that January is supposed to offer.

But eventually, I did something I haven’t done in years.

I didn’t force it.

I stopped trying to manufacture clarity and decided to see what would happen if I didn’t decide anything at all.

That choice felt odd at first. Almost like I was breaking an unspoken rule. But slowly, something shifted.

Instead of looking ahead all the time, I paid more attention to what was right in front of me. I followed my energy rather than a plan. I noticed what I was drawn to, what I had capacity for, what I was quietly resisting.

Without realising it, I started making decisions based on what felt alive, rather than what fitted a list I’d written in January.

And looking back now, I’m genuinely chuffed with the year I’ve had.

Not because everything went smoothly or unfolded the way I might have predicted, it didn’t, but because I felt more present inside it. Less distracted by where I thought I should be heading. More rooted in where I actually was.

I want to be really clear: this isn’t me saying intention-setting doesn’t work. I’ve spent years reviewing, planning, setting goals and words, and I still find that process incredibly valuable.

But this year taught me something I didn’t expect.

Sometimes not being able to set an intention is information.
Sometimes resistance is a signal.
Sometimes your nervous system is asking for space before direction.

And if you find yourself staring at a blank page this January, unable to decide, unsure what you want from the year ahead, maybe the answer isn’t to push harder.

Maybe it’s to listen.

To start where you are.
To let the year meet you rather than trying to get ahead of it.
To trust that clarity can arrive through living, not just planning.

That’s what this year taught me.

A gentle invitation

We’ll be running our annual Review & Reflect session soon. It’s a space to look back on the year with honesty and care and yes, you’re welcome to set intentions for 2026 if you want to.

But you don’t have to.

You’re just as welcome to come and listen, reflect, and leave with exactly what feels right for you.

More details here.