(Plan)ting

Preparing the soil for the year ahead.

Scene from my walk while contemplating what I would plant in the new year …

Feel like giving your eyes a break … here’s the audio version for ya.

Can’t spell planting without a plan…

Do you have a word for the year ahead? What about an action? And—this is the part we often skip—have you given any thought to why you chose either one?

Words are some of my favorite friends. I love when they reveal themselves through play—like discovering the word plan hiding inside the word planting.

When I think about planting, my mind goes two places at once.

First is a wildflower meadow: seeds tossed about willy-nilly, randomness reigning, the result a vibrant, ecstatic landscape bursting with color, shape, and diversity in all its glory.

Second is a carefully planned field: rows aligned with intention, order, and forethought—a plan in action if ever there was one.

Both ways of planting produce growth. Both lead to a harvest that didn’t exist before. Both come with their own benefits—and their own challenges.

Here is where my love and play with language and story comes into direct contact with intentions toward living a vibrant and vital life, and this particular time of year when we tend to be hell-bent on resolving, reinventing, and launching something new the moment January arrives.

What if, instead of all that bending of hell and fighting with barbells, we took a note from Mother Nature and how she gets things done?

What if we honored rest in the darker months and allowed space to plan—to toss seeds wildly or to use all that junior-high geometry to lay out our rows with care and intention?

Let me show you what I mean.

For 2026, here’s what I’ve landed on:

Word: Embodied
Action: To be of service
Reason: To make a difference in the lives of others

I didn’t arrive at these overnight. I sat quietly. I let something bigger and wiser whisper into my soul. When the word landed, I didn’t rush past it—I dug underneath it, played with it, said it out loud.

I asked myself: Why this word? What does it point toward? Does it feel good in my body, not just my mind?

Then I imagined what that word might look like in action—how it would move through my days, shape my choices, influence how I show up for myself and for others.

Every year, whether we mean to or not, we tell ourselves a story about who we’re becoming. This is mine.

Now—your turn.

No matter your preferred method of (plan)ting, I want to offer you the same simple exercise—one I hope will bring clarity of purpose as the new year unfolds.

Sit quietly. Let something bigger and wiser whisper into your soul a single word—one that could serve as a guidepost for the next twelve months.

When the word lands, don’t rush past it. Dig underneath it. Play with it. Say it out loud—sing it, hum it, mumble it.

Ask yourself:

• Why this word?

• What does it point toward?

• Does it feel good in your body, not just your mind?

Then write it down and place it somewhere you’ll see it every day.

From there, imagine what that word might look like in action. How would it move through your days? Shape your choices? Influence how you show up for yourself—and for others?

If your word feels like the opening line of a new chapter, you’re already in the work.

Here’s what I’m asking:

Try it. Write it down. Live with it for a moment.

Then share it with me.

Email me. Leave a comment on this post. Scribble it on a scrap of paper and hand it to me the next time we cross paths—whatever works.

Because when we offer our intentions beyond the private confines of our own minds, something shifts. We take them more seriously. We commit a little more energy. We place them into the larger field of possibility.

And more often than not, when we do that, the powers-that-be hear us more clearly—and meet us with exactly the help we need.

‘til next time.

Love y’all, Tiff