A Gentle New Beginning: Setting Intentions That Actually Stick (Without Perfection)
There’s something about the first week of a new year that feels… loud.
Not in a bad way. Just loud in the way a room gets loud when everyone starts talking at once.
“New year, new you.”
“Fix everything.”
“Go harder.”
“Be better.”
And if you’re anything like me, you can feel that pressure in your body before you even have words for it. It’s the kind of energy that can make you want to sprint… or shut down.
So I want to offer something different.
A quieter beginning.
A beginning that doesn’t demand you become someone else.
A beginning that simply asks you to come back to yourself.
Because the truth is: healing doesn’t happen on a calendar. Growth doesn’t require a dramatic overhaul. And you don’t need a perfect plan to start living with intention.
You just need a moment of honesty.
A breath.
And a willingness to choose what you want to carry forward.
Resolutions vs. intentions (and why intentions feel more like healing)
I’m not here to bash resolutions. If you love them, keep them. But for a lot of us—especially those of us who have lived through hard things—resolutions can feel like a setup.
Resolutions often come from a place of “I’m not enough.”
They can sound like:
“I need to fix myself.”
“I need to be more disciplined.”
“I need to stop being this way.”
Intentions are different.
Intentions come from a place of “I’m listening.”
They sound like:
“I want to feel grounded.”
“I want to be kinder to myself.”
“I want to move through my days with more presence.”
An intention isn’t a punishment.
It’s a direction.
It’s a way of saying, “This matters to me.”
And when you’ve spent years surviving—when you’ve spent years carrying stress, old pain, or the echo of someone else’s voice in your head—choosing your own direction is a powerful thing.
The kind of intention that actually sticks
Here’s what I’ve learned, both as a person and as an artist:
The intentions that last are the ones that feel livable.
Not the ones that look impressive.
Not the ones that make you feel like you have to become a machine.
The ones that last are the ones you can return to on a normal Tuesday.
On a day when you’re tired.
On a day when you’re busy.
On a day when you’re doing your best, but your best looks quieter than you hoped.
So if you’re setting an intention for the year, I want you to ask yourself a different question than “What should I do?”
Ask:
What do I want to feel more of?
Because feelings are the compass.
If you want to feel grounded, you’ll naturally start making choices that support grounding.
If you want to feel clear, you’ll start protecting your attention.
If you want to feel safe, you’ll start choosing environments and relationships that honor your nervous system.
And if you want to feel more like yourself… you’ll start coming home.
A simple practice: choose one word (and make it a home base)
If you’ve never done a “word of the year,” this is one of my favorite ways to set an intention without turning it into a performance.
Pick one word that feels like what you need.
Not what you think you should need.
What you actually need.
Some examples:
Grounded
Softness
Clarity
Courage
Peace
Trust
Freedom
Patience
Presence
Healing
Then, instead of treating that word like a goal, treat it like a home base.
A place you can return to.
When you’re overwhelmed, you can ask:
“What would ‘grounded’ look like in this moment?”
“What would ‘softness’ sound like in my self-talk today?”
“What would ‘clarity’ ask me to say no to?”
You don’t have to do it perfectly.
You just have to return.
That’s the practice.
Why I’m talking about this as an artist
I create jewelry and art for a living, yes.
But what I’m really doing—what I’m always doing—is working with intention.
When I string beads, I don’t think of it as assembly.
I think of it as presence.
Bead by bead, breath by breath, I’m choosing what I’m building.
And that’s what intention is.
It’s not a dramatic announcement.
It’s a series of small choices.
It’s the way you speak to yourself.
It’s the way you move through your day.
It’s the way you return to your center when life pulls you outward.
And that’s why I believe intentions can be healing.
Because healing is not a finish line.
Healing is a relationship.
A relationship with your body.
A relationship with your past.
A relationship with your present.
A relationship with who you’re becoming.
The pressure to “start over” (and why you don’t have to)
There’s a myth that the new year is a clean slate.
For some people, that feels exciting.
For others, it can feel like erasure.
Because your story doesn’t disappear when the calendar flips.
Your nervous system doesn’t forget what it’s been through.
Your body doesn’t suddenly feel safe because it’s January.
So if you’re entering this year carrying grief, stress, old memories, or the weight of a hard season—please hear me:
You don’t have to start over.
You can start from where you are.
You can start gently.
You can start with one small intention that says, “I’m here, and I’m listening.”
That counts.
That matters.
That is real.
A grounding ritual you can do in under two minutes
Let’s make this practical.
Here’s a simple ritual you can do anytime—especially in the first week of the year when everything feels like it’s demanding your attention.
Place one hand on your chest and one on your belly.
Inhale slowly through your nose for a count of four.
Exhale slowly for a count of six.
Ask yourself: “What do I need right now?”
Answer with one word.
That’s it.
No journaling required.
No perfect morning routine.
Just a moment of honesty.
If you want to take it one step further, write that one word somewhere you’ll see it.
A sticky note.
Your phone lock screen.
A card in your wallet.
A reminder that you’re allowed to choose your direction.
How to keep your intention alive (without turning it into another job)
This is where most people get stuck.
They pick an intention, they feel inspired, and then life happens.
And suddenly the intention becomes another thing to fail at.
So here’s what I recommend instead:
1) Tie your intention to something you already do
If you already drink coffee or tea, let that be the moment you return to your word.
If you already put on jewelry, let that be the moment.
If you already lock the shop door, let that be the moment.
If you already wash your hands, let that be the moment.
You don’t need more habits.
You need anchors.
2) Make it small enough to succeed on hard days
If your word is “peace,” the practice might be one deep breath.
If your word is “clarity,” the practice might be one honest no.
If your word is “softness,” the practice might be one kind sentence to yourself.
Small is not weak.
Small is sustainable.
3) Expect to return (because returning is the point)
You will drift.
Everyone does.
Returning is not failure.
Returning is the practice.
A note for anyone who’s healing from the past
I don’t share every detail of my story in public spaces, but I will say this:
I understand what it means to want to heal.
I understand what it means to want to feel safe.
I understand what it means to carry things that weren’t yours to carry.
And I also understand that healing isn’t always loud.
Sometimes healing looks like:
Choosing a calmer morning
Saying no without explaining
Taking your time
Letting your body rest
Creating something beautiful
Allowing yourself to feel joy again
If that’s where you are, your intention doesn’t need to be impressive.
It needs to be true.
My invitation to you for this year
If you take nothing else from this post, take this:
Choose one intention that feels like a gentle hand on your shoulder.
Not a whip.
Not a demand.
A gentle hand.
Then return to it in small ways.
Bead by bead.
Breath by breath.
Choice by choice.
And if you ever want to talk about what you’re moving through—or you want a piece created with a specific intention in mind—I’m here.
If you’re local, come see me at the shop in Sundial Shopping Center in Carefree. Sometimes the right piece finds you when you’re not forcing anything.
And if you’re not local, you can still follow along here each Tuesday this month. We’re starting the year with intention, and we’re doing it in a way that feels human.
Because you don’t need to become someone else.
You just need to come home.
A simple question to carry with you today
Before you go, I’ll leave you with one question:
What do you want to feel more of this year?
Let your answer be your beginning.