A Gentle New Year: Intentions, Not Resolutions

I’ve never been one for loud New Year resolutions. The kind that promise overnight change or demand constant momentum have never really fitted the way I live or create. Instead, I like to begin a new year quietly, with intention rather than pressure, allowing my plans to unfold slowly and with care.

This year, my focus is growth, my word for 2026 is growth – but gentle growth.

One of my main aims for the year ahead is to continue developing my shop. I want it to feel like a true reflection of my creative life: handmade, thoughtful, and rooted in process rather than perfection. Whether that’s stitched pieces, paper goods, or small creative offerings, I want everything to carry the marks of time, hands, and intention. Building it slowly feels important – letting ideas mature, trusting the rhythm of making, and allowing the shop to evolve naturally alongside me.

I’m also returning to my blog with renewed purpose. I want it to feel like a magazine-style space that gathers all the things I love in one place – stitching, art journalling, momigami, baking, seasonal living, and the quiet rituals that shape my days. I imagine it as a place for slow reading, gentle inspiration, and honest reflections. A digital notebook of sorts, where creativity and everyday life are woven together.

Social media will continue to be part of this journey too, but in a way that feels intentional and grounded. I want to grow there organically, sharing my creative process – the in-progress stitches, the pages of a well-used journal, the scraps on my table, the pauses between making. I’m not interested in chasing trends or constant output; instead, I want to show up consistently, honestly, and creatively, trusting that the right connections will form in their own time.

At the heart of everything this year is creativity as a daily practice. Making not to produce, but to process. Slow stitching in the evenings, journalling first thing in the morning, tearing and crumpling paper, recording thoughts, prayers, or small observations from the day. These handmade rituals ground me, and I want to protect them – not rush them – even as I grow.

Just as important as creativity is staying humble and positive. I’m setting the intention to practice daily gratitude, even if it’s just a few lines written in my journal at the end of the day. Gratitude for finished pieces and unfinished ones, for quiet progress, for lessons learned through mistakes, and for the simple joy of being able to create at all.

This year has shaped me in ways I never expected . After a tragic loss in the summer, I am still finding my way through grief, learning how to sit with it rather than rush past it. Choosing growth as my word for 2026 isn’t about forcing healing or pretending everything is fine – it’s about allowing space for change, tenderness, and quiet strength. I hope to grow around what I’ve lost, to let creativity, stitching, and journalling become small anchors on difficult days, and to trust that growth can exist even in sorrow. Slowly, gently, one moment at a time.

So this year, instead of resolutions, I’m choosing intentions: to create with care, to build slowly, to remain curious, and to notice the good in each day. If I can do that – stitch by stitch, page by page – then this new year will be exactly what it needs to be.