It’s mid-January, and like a lot of you I’m guessing, it already feels like I’m behind. Which is frustrating, because alongside the idea of a New Year comes the promise of a fresh start; new goals, new plans and that familiar New Year, New Me energy. The problem is, that narrative doesn’t always come with motivation. And when motivation doesn’t show up, it’s easy to feel like you’re falling behind.
Motivation, in my opinion, is a bit of a ruse. It ebbs and flows. Most of the time, it shows up at the most inconvenient moments, not when I’ve actually set aside time to create or work on something meaningful. That’s where clarity comes in.
Clarity is knowing what needs to be done and why, all aimed toward the same unwavering goal. Whether that goal lives five weeks or five years down the road, clarity becomes the roadmap that gets you there when motivation disappears.
When we plan for our goals or our future, it’s important to treat that planning as an act of self-respect, not just structure or discipline. Asking yourself honest questions like: What is my actual capacity right now? And how does that change the way I set goals? How can I give myself grace during seasons where I can’t do everything, instead of treating that as a personal failure?
What if you gave yourself permission to start soft and reflect in January, instead of treating it like a ticking clock where you fall behind if you don’t keep up? What if you looked at your goals gently and honestly, instead of expecting every day to look like a checklist? The pressure doesn’t come from the work itself; it comes from believing we should be operating at full capacity at all times.
When you’re clear on what you want your life to look like, you can work backward from there. Instead of fighting motivation or creative blocks, you get to follow a map you built for future you. You get to say, I want this for you and this is how I’m going to get there. There’s something deeply healing in that. It quiets the comparison, the noise, the feeling of not doing enough; not posting enough, not being trendy enough, productive enough, successful enough.
Clarity realigns you back with the self that cares about you and wants you to succeed at the rate that feels good in your body, not fills you with bone-deep exhaustion.
So this is your permission to have a slow start this year. This is your permission to reflect, to plan honestly, and to decide what you want to be better at by the end of it. Because when you get to next January, the only questions that really matter are these: Did I move even an inch forward from where I was last year? And did I do something, anything, to take care of future me?
Happy (belated) New Year to all of you, and I wish you the very best this year.
With love,
Erin
