Welcome 2026

(Local View from 4'2, Lake County Press, January 9, 2026)

New Year, newer me.

I am not one for resolutions but I am one for being intentional and self reflecting. This new year finds me processing things from 2025- loss of family members, grief loved ones carry for a variety of life reasons, new relationships personally and professionally, and old projects that have lingered too long. Oh and my needy body that seems to have more interesting needs as the aging process marches on.

For me, there was nothing glaring or horrendous about 2025 on the personal front of life. Yes, I had another orthopedic surgery and life was very disrupted by that but for me that is kind of typical. The political landscape that has huge implications for my community of folks with medical conditions and disability culture is beyond scary and really left me numb by the end of the year. It is like being slowly killed by the rub of a dull plastic knife everyday.

So I didn't wait for the miraculous day of January 1st to start making life changes because it will take more than a year to regain aspects of my health, my whole being, and my joy. Between the holidays of 2025 I sat down with my eight different lapsized whiteboards and got down and dirty with the tasks I have been hanging on to for years. Things like memory books from 2023 through 2025. Just do it. Online tasks for my non-profits that need to be delegated. Just hand it off and let go. Prioritize my health by getting sleep, taking all my medications, doing my home therapy routines, and eating healthier. Just go to bed!

As each task came off my long to do list I felt lighter. As I gave other leaders work to do, the weight on my shoulders decreased and my hope began to flicker again. My schedule was a bit more open due to the holidays and others being busy so I hunkered down to get things done in a slower pace and more intentional ways. I also had some really nourishing conversations with some dear friends one on one. These conversations were as if time stopped and we were the only two in the world, even though many others were in and out of our space while we talked and talked. I also learned a few new board games. Joy had been returned and the plastic knife had nearly stopped.

And now we return to the first week of adulting as 2026 is in full swing. There are still hard things in life. There is still grief in the moments, There is still hope and joy even if it feels just around the corner. 

A dear friend years ago gave me a word picture for when life gets overwhelming. She told me to put everything in my mind into a mental kitchen cabinet. Shove all the cares, hurts, demands of life, and wants in that cabinet. Then when I am ready, figure out which ONE thing I am ready to deal with and quickly pull out that one thing from the cabinet. Use both hands to hold the door from flying open with all the heavy things trying to tumble out and only grab the one thing.

If this word picture doesn’t work for you, another author recently shared this with me: a friend of hers had a picture of an octopus in their office and every time they had a task or project they went and took off a tentacle from the octopus. When the picture was down to two or three tentacles left the owner knew they had to say no to new requests. Also other people around the owner of the octopus image also knew the condition or stress level of this person. I think this is brilliant.

Wherever we find ourselves and whatever conditions we are in, remember we can not do this alone. We need others to help us be nourished, to find hope and joy, and to live out our best lives. Cheers to a healthier 2026!