Finding My Word of the Year

As we step into the fresh possibility of 2026, many of us find ourselves taking a moment to reflect. In flipping the calendar page, I acknowledeg that energetically, this makes little sense (hello spring equinox and for me the truer new year) but there is something that occurs collectively on our planet when the clock strikes midnight on December 31st. The chiming of the clock has us we pause, take stock, and wonder: What do I want this year to be about?

Enter the Word of the Year: a single word that becomes a guide and a soft reminder when life gets loud and you forget which direction you were heading.

Why a Word of the Year is Powerful

Before we explore into finding your word, let's talk about why this practice matters, at least to me. As always, take what resonates and leave the rest.

It anchors us. When we're faced with choices throughout the year, whether to take that opportunity, how to spend our precious time, what to say yes or no too; our word serves as a touchstone. It cuts through the noise and reminds us what we're moving toward.

It provides focus when we feel lost. Life has a way of scattering us in a thousand directions. A word of the year is like a lighthouse beam cutting through fog, calling us back home to ourselves.

It unifies areas of life that feel fragmented. Instead of having separate goals for health, relationships, work, and personal growth, one word can tie them all together with a common thread. It creates coherence rather than competing priorities.

It invites check-ins to build self-awareness. By regularly returning to our word, we develop a practice of pausing and asking ourselves meaningful questions about how we're showing up daily/weekly and whether we're living aligned with our intentions.

It creates agency and intentional living. Choosing your own word is an act of self-determination, of sovereignty: a reminder that you are the ultimate authority over your own life. You're declaring what you want to cultivate rather than reacting to whatever comes your way. It shifts you from passive to active in shaping your year.

How to Find Your Word

Finding your word isn't about forcing something or picking what sounds poetic (although maybe for you it is, if that's important to you). I believe it's about listening. To yourself, to what's been calling for your attention, to what you've been avoiding, to what your soul has been nudging you towards.

Here are a few questions to ask yourself:

What is calling for my attention?

Perhaps there's something that keeps showing up in your thoughts, your dreams, your conversations with friends. Something that won't leave you alone. Pay attention to this. It's often the universe's way of tapping you on the shoulder and saying, "Look at this. It matters."

What do I no longer wish to carry? (old patterns, thoughts, situations)

We all have things we've been lugging around like heavy suitcases; old stories about ourselves, patterns that no longer serve us, situations we've outgrown but haven't yet released. What are you ready to set down?

What do I wish to deepen?

Maybe there's a practice you've started, a relationship that brings you joy, a creative pursuit that lights you up. What deserves more of your attention, more of your presence, more of you?

What newness do I wish to cultivate?

This isn't about completely reinventing yourself. It's about asking: What quality, practice, or way of being wants to emerge in me this year? What am I ready to grow into?

What have I forgotten that is asking to be remembered?

Sometimes we lose parts of ourselves along the way. The parts that knew how to play, how to rest, how to be wild and free. What piece of yourself is waiting to be welcomed home?

I'll share my own word as an example of how this process unfolded for me this year.

My word for 2026 is Animal.

In 2025, I walked through a Page of Pentacles year. For those unfamiliar with the Page of Pentacles, this is the archetype of the diligent student, authentic and sincere, the intern who shows up early and stays late, the one given the keys because they're trustworthy and dedicated. It's a card of new beginnings, of laying foundations, of working overtime to formulate a vision for the future.

And I did all of that. I showed up. I learned. I built. I said yes to (too many?) opportunities that stretched me. I became the hall monitor version of myself, rigid in my commitment to doing things "right." I spent countless hours making sure that it was.

Somewhere along the way, I forgot I had a body.

I didn't spend much time outdoors. I stopped listening to the rhythms that called out to me. Once, what feels like long ago, I used to listen. This is what led to chronic flare-ups last summer because I had to “Page of Pentacles” my way through every promise I had made in spite of myself. Never worth it. I ignored the fact that my rhythms were sometimes nocturnal, that I go through waves and contain multitudes. Sometimes my energy peaks when the moon is high (hey, every village needed a town crier, all "3 am and all is well!" type shit), and forcing myself into a "morning lark" mold has never served me well. I am not a morning lark, and pretending I am only exhausts me.

So this year, I chose Animal as my word.

It's a reminder to check in with my body more often. To remember that I, like all creatures, need to play as well as work. To be honest with myself about what kind of animal I am, diurnal or nocturnal? Or maybe a blend of the two? Do I need more time in the forest, near water, under open sky? What does my particular animal body need to thrive?

Theres a longing to return to something primal and true. To trust my instincts. To move when I need to move, rest when I need to rest, and stop ignoring my capacity and what natural rhythms make me feel whole.

Your Word is Waiting

Your word of the year doesn't need to be profound or impressive. It doesn't need to make sense to anyone but you. It just needs to be true.

Take your time with those questions. Sit with them. Let them simmer. Write in your journal. Go for walks. Notice what keeps coming up. Trust that the right word will find you, or you'll find it, or you'll meet each other halfway. Even if it takes ‘til Spring. So be it.

And when you do find it, write it down. Put it somewhere you'll see it. Let it be your companion for the rest of the year. Let it anchor you when you feel adrift. Let it remind you of who you're becoming and what you're calling in.

May your entrance into this new year be full of clarity, gentleness, and courage.

Welcome to 2026.

What's your word for the year? I'd love to hear what you've chosen and why it called to you.