While Galloping into the Year of the Horse...

... be careful of capitalism in disguise as wellness inspo.

If you’ve been following my writing for a while, you know I’m not a fan of the traditional New Year’s resolutions. (In the early years, one of my first blog posts was called “Resolutions Schmesolutions!”) Last year, I coined the term “gentle intentions” to address our desire to move forward into the coming year consciously.

I’m also disappointed in diet and wellness culture, which goes bonkers around New Year’s Eve. I view this surge in advice, programming, and promotions as cloaked capitalism. Not unlike the beauty industry, the diet and wellness industries make us feel bad about ourselves or like we are not in control of our bodies (which we aren’t fully—surprise!), so that we’ll keep buying more.

So how do we honor the change of the year in a way that isn’t so consumer-y?

I’m gathering with a handful of people over Zoom to harvest and share lessons learned from 2025 with intentions for 2026. (My two friends have been doing this group ritual for 25 years—since Y2K!) Then, I’ll be dancing into 2026 with an intimate gathering of good friends. On January 1, another friend leads a sunset walk, honoring nature and the group's New Year’s wishes.

For me, this feels more meaningful than the typical let’s get toasted, set some resolutions we’ll drop by March, and kiss some random dude thing that is still, sadly, being sold to young people.

How will you make the transition into the next year meaningful to YOU?

There’s no right way to do it, but I invite you to allow yourself at least a little time to make the transition your own.

Concord Great Meadows Photo by Meighan Matthews

This holiday season, I was invited to a party thrown by the people I take ballet class with on Mondays. While modern and improvisational dance forms have been my jam in my adult years, ballet was my childhood foundation. I have enjoyed coming back to ballet over the past decade, after leaving it for 20 years. I am one of the youngest people in the class (I’m 54). Several dancers are in their 80s, and there is a woman in her 90s who takes the barre portion of the class. The class challenges me every week.

It’s such an inspiring group of people, and I enjoyed the generous community I was invited into that night. We enjoyed good food, lots of laughter, and shared sweetness. It was a reminder to me that movement and community are probably the most essential elements of wellbeing in later life. I believe this even more now.

That said, if we are going to aspire to move more in the new year — or join a class or community — we need to make goals and plans without pressure. So many of my clients want to make changes around food or physical activity habits, but they beat themselves up about lack of progress or speed. The best way to create resistance or internal opposition to change is to create a “should” or to use criticism to motivate.

Coastal Maine Photo by Peter Schauster

The opposite is to approach yourself with compassion, self-love, and gentleness. Investigate the obstacles to making the changes you wish to make. Create more spaciousness to honor the increased energy required to change. Prioritize time to integrate and notice the positive effects of any change, so your system recognizes that your life is better with that change, encouraging sustainability.

There is so much more I could say about this, and I know it can be hard to find self-love and compassion when your young self or your current self is not met that way by your environment. But, I assure you, the militant, I-just-need-to-get-my-shit-together route doesn’t create lasting change. It’s super hard work, but the road to loving yourself enough to take the best care of YOU (and, wow, yes, then we have space to nurture our favorite relationships too!) is the road worth traveling in 2026.

I like the idea of newness without pressure. I’m way more introspective than is probably good for me. I do a reflection on each of the four seasonal changes (on the solstice, equinox, etc., the way businesses do a Q1, Q2, Q3, Q4). I love living in New England with the blessings of dramatic seasonal change. New Year’s inventory and intention-setting feels like what I do each season, but on steroids. It doesn’t need to be so big and January-ish. We can recommit to ourselves and our dreams any time.

Let’s not be dismissive about our past journeys or put too much pressure and expectation on our future. There is much to be learned from history, and planning ahead is helpful. But please let us not forget the present moment, which is actually where living takes place.

Stop for a moment. Feel your feet on the ground. Your connection to gravity. Feel the air on your skin. Notice the colors and textures around you. Maybe a smell or sound. Every moment builds a life, so make sure you don’t miss the beauty of the simple sensory gifts of each one.

I just looked up from writing this piece and felt grateful for the warm wool sweater around my shoulders, the voice of my 20-year-old daughter upstairs on the phone, and the smell of the beeswax candle that fills my little home office.

We are saying goodbye to the Year of the Snake. Do you have any skins to shed yet before you gallop into the Year of the Horse? Maybe there are some expectations of perfection that you can leave behind. Maybe there are some outdated beliefs about yourself that you might shed. And if you are ready to take 2026 by the reins (can’t help these puns), then by all means, set some intentions.

But let your intentions be gentle, honest expressions of your true longings. May they be about making your moments more full, your senses more alive, and your life more connected to who you truly are in it. No one else is creating your life but you. Make it fantastic, but allow yourself to be human, bumbling along like the rest of us. An ounce of compassion and self-love will take you far into the next year.

Like I say to many of my clients, exhausted activists can’t act effectively for change —their own or the planet’s. Care for you allows you to care widely.

Other Nourishing Nuggets:

• For those of you following my video project on social media, here are the latest videos in the “I’m Never Letting My Little Brother Edit My Videos Again” series with John Schauster. Yes, a couple of these videos have had over 350K views (!?!) and lots of engagement in the comments. This boggles my mind and helps me understand that young people actually appreciate discussion about food and health misinformation, particularly if there is a lightness about it (and John gives me a demon voice). As long as I keep paying my brother in scones, he’ll keep editing my kitchen rants.

• My dear friend Deb Benfield’s book, Unapologetic Aging, is finally available everywhere! Don’t delay. You aren’t getting any younger, and you need her perspective before the capitalists pounce on you. Seriously, this book is a winner.

Deb sent me this photo of our books looking so cute together for the holidays.

• Anne Lammott (yes, THE Anne Lammott of Bird by Bird fame), wrote a sweet and honest piece about the small and large problems with New Year’s diets.

• I have a little space in my practice for a new supervisee or two. If you are an eating disorders professional who would like mentoring and clinical consultation from someone who has learned a lot (sometimes the hard way) over the last 30 years in practice, please reach out.

• There is also room for one or two new clients in my practice in the new year, particularly those interested in Somatic Experiencing (SE) and embodiment work as an adjunct to their work on food and body concerns.

I’m sending you a little warmth during this dark time of year. Thank you for reading my musings, which are always inspired by the very real people, places, and moments of my own life and work. Thank you for sharing these “Nourishing Words” with others, especially during this year of creative growth for my business and writing, and for taking them into your heart and life. I do not take this lightly.

Wishing you a little magic and a warm fire beneath your gentle intentions as you wander—or gallop—into 2026.

With love in this shared life journey,

Heidi