Tending: My word for the year
If you’ve read earlier blog posts, you’ll know I’m not a fan of setting goals in January. But one thing I do enjoy is choosing a “word of the year” to guide the months ahead.
The word isn’t tied to a goal or resolution, and it isn’t something to achieve. It’s more of a quiet companion — embodying how I want the year to feel and offering a gentle sense of direction.
Looking back: Emerging
Last year, my word was emerging. And looking back, I can see how it quietly shaped my decisions. I stepped forward in ways I hadn’t planned — especially as a very dedicated introvert. I found myself reaching out and connecting, sharing more of my experience and ideas through a new podcast and my seasonal planning guides — two things that weren’t even on my radar in January. I nudged myself just far enough beyond my comfort zone to grow.
Looking forward: Tending
This year, I chose the word tending.
Why that word? For me, it’s about nurturing what already exists — the relationships I’ve built, the resources I’ve developed, and the community that’s slowly forming. The next twelve months aren’t about pushing to scale any of these things quickly, but growing at an easy, sustainable pace.
The power of ink on paper
In previous years, I’ve scribbled my word on a scrap of paper or a sticky note and tucked it beside my desk. But this year felt different.
Maybe it’s the nature of my work, but I believe deeply in the power of ink on paper. Thoughts can feel fleeting, but something physical can anchor them more firmly. Words can be surprisingly powerful, and I wanted this one to feel intentional.
So, a few days ago, I printed my word onto a small keepsake postcard. And as I set the print aside to dry, I realised it will likely be the last piece I print in my home studio, because we’re moving next week.
Five years of making, experimenting, and growing have happened here. And my little printing space has held countless projects, ideas, and quiet afternoons of work. It feels strangely fitting that the final print would carry my word for the year.
Carrying it forward
Soon, I’ll be carrying that word into a new home and a new studio space. And this little postcard will sit above my desk when we arrive — a reminder that growth doesn’t need to be hurried. That change can be gentle, and seasons unfold in their own time.
I’m curious to see how my year of tending unfolds!
P.S. I may print a small batch of these postcards after we move — if you’d like one, just let me know.
And if you choose a word for the year, I’d love to hear what it is.
