Calling in the new year (or a new season, or a new chapter) isn’t just about what you’re reaching for.

It’s also about what you’re finally willing to put down.

Because life will pile its injuries onto you—inevitable. Some of us sustain heavier ones than others. But the injuries aren’t always open wounds. A lot of them turn into weight: extra baggage you learn to carry so well you stop noticing how tired your arms are.

This is an opportunity to lighten the load.

Not with some dramatic purge. Just with a simple shift:

Even if I can’t let go of this yet… maybe I can loosen my grip.

And then pay attention to the moments I re-clench—out of reaction, trauma, habit, whatever—and practice loosening again.

a simple exercise (with as much ritual as you want)

Make two lists:

• 3–5 things you want to call in this year
• 3–5 things you want to let go of this year

Bring as much ritual as you want. Light candles. Make tea. Put on music. Write it by hand. Turn it into a scene.

The point isn’t aesthetics. The point is to put enough intention and feeling behind it that the emotion sticks to you, even if only faintly—like a scent you catch later in the week that brings you back.

the type-a trap (and why “directional” still counts)

When I think of goals, my brain defaults to the hardcore, type-A kind: SMART goals. Measurable. Actionable. Time-bound. All that.

And I used to be a little dismissive of “directional” goals—feeling-goals, identity-goals, the stuff that doesn’t fit neatly into a spreadsheet.

How do you make being happier a goal?

How do you make being less bitter a goal?

Unless you’re proactively scoring yourself (and actually remembering to do it), it’s hard to measure. And life is already busy enough.

But I’m starting to think the measurement isn’t always the point.

Sometimes the intention itself—the reminder—is the mechanism.

Less metric, more compass.

bitterness is weight

I’ve been through my fair share of difficulties. And if I’m being honest, sometimes I feel bitter about what I’ve gone through.

On a good day, I can see how it shaped me—how it gave me abilities and perspectives, and even a deeper appreciation of the world.

On a not-so-good day, it shows up as resentment.

This wasn’t fair.

Ugly, yes. But real.

And that’s part of why I like the “let go” list. It doesn’t demand that I magically become a different person. It just asks me to notice what I’m carrying—and decide, gently, that I don’t want to grip it so tightly anymore.

what changes when you loosen your grip

Maybe nothing changes overnight.

But when you remember “I’m trying to put down the weight of my past,” you might act differently in small, compounding ways.

Maybe instead of staying locked in survival mode, you lean toward service. A friend asks for a favor and your heart is a little more open—even if you’re tired—to do what you can instead of retreating.

Maybe you’re a little more willing to go out of your way.

And if your “goal” is happiness, maybe you’re more willing to see your friends. Or more determined to take a couple days off. Or you finally plan the inconvenient party because you know it will actually make you feel alive.

Not because you hit a target.

Because you remembered who you’re trying to be.

So yeah—call in what you want.

But also: choose what you’re done carrying.