What is Your Word for the Year?
As we step into a new year, I’m finding myself less interested in resolutions and more drawn to something simpler and, for me, more meaningful: choosing a word. One word to act as an anchor and a framework for how I move through the year ahead. When I sat with the question What’s my word for this year?—the answer came quickly. It didn’t feel forced or overly curated. It just…came. The word that seems to check all my boxes is honor.
Last year asked a lot of me emotionally. I bumped up against parts of myself I didn’t fully recognize. I felt feelings that had clearly been waiting in the queue for a while—some bubbled up quietly, some came crashing in, but all of them insisted on being seen. It’s so natural to want to feel happy all the time—we’re wired to chase what feels good and light. But that’s not real life. You can only shove the darker emotions down for so long before they begin to push back. They don’t disappear. They wait. They ache. They start to pull at you, begging to be held, felt, and—yes—honored.
So this year, I’m leaning all the way into that word: honor. I want to honor each experience that comes my way. The successes as much as the failures. The friendships as well as the fallouts. The hurts and the forgiveness. Honoring doesn’t mean I’m going to like everything that happens, or instantly appreciate it. I’m not romanticizing hardship or pretending that pain is pretty. But it does mean I’m committed to meeting what arises with respect, time, and attention.
When the lesser loved emotions and experiences arise, instead of stuffing them down and covering them in love and light, can I honor them? Can I feel and listen to them, and then express myself in a way that’s true to me? To honor something is to give it the time, space, and acknowledgement it deserves. It’s saying: I see you. You matter. You get a seat at the table too.
It feels like making full contact with our experience—really being there for it—so that nothing gets left behind, neglected, or quietly devalued. So I’ll ask you: What is your word for the year? What word do you want to be the frame of reference through which you filter your experiences in the months ahead? I invite you to sit with the question without forcing it. Let it arise from the deeper, wiser part of you.
Together, we can set intention for the year in a way that’s simple but deeply meaningful—not with a checklist of fixes, but with a guiding word that feels true. So here’s to the year ahead. A cheers and a deep bow—to honoring the light, the dark, and all the magically mundane moments in between.
