For many years, I set New Year’s resolutions that fizzled out within two weeks. They were rooted in shame, aimed at “fixing” something I thought was wrong with me, or trying to prove my worth. Unsurprisingly, this wasn’t a recipe for meaningful change, but I didn’t know another way.

As I deepened my understanding of the nervous system, studied loving-kindness, and absorbed the teachings of Yoga, Vedanta, meditation, Tantra and wise teachers, I began to see things differently. If our nature is truly inherently divine and perfect, which is what the texts and my teachers tell me, how can I approach change from this perspective and understanding? 

Over a decade ago, I started a new tradition. Instead of setting resolutions born out of lack, I began setting intentions born out of genuine desire.

At the time, I wanted to cook more. I craved a deeper connection with the food I ate, wanted to know where it came from, and desired to learn how to prepare it. This intention arose after trading a session with a farmer for a box of fresh veggies she had grown. I didn’t want to waste the fruits of her labor, yet I barely knew how to cook—and frankly, I didn’t enjoy it. That box of vegetables sparked something in me.

I cooked everything in that box and discovered I actually enjoyed the process. That New Year, I decided I would cook once a month. It might not sound like much, but for someone who rarely cooked, this was a significant step.

Had I resolved to cook three times a week—or even once a week—my nervous system would have gone into overdrive, fighting to meet an unsustainable goal. Eventually, I would have burned out, given up, and reinforced the false belief that I wasn’t capable of change.

Cooking once a month felt doable. My nervous system stayed calm, and I even looked forward to planning my monthly meal. By focusing on fun and desire rather than pressure, I began cooking more frequently. By the end of that year, I was cooking more often than not.

Now, over ten years later, I prefer my own cooking to most meals I eat out. When I travel, I look forward to returning home to my kitchen. Ten years ago, I would have thought this transformation was impossible.

This is the power of acting from a place of desire rather than lack, compassion rather than criticism, and honoring your nervous system rather than forcing it.

As we enter 2025, here are a few questions to reflect on:

• What do you truly want, and why do you want it?
• Where do you feel that desire in your body? Is it genuine, or does it come from a sense of obligation or “should”?
• What fun and joyful steps can you take in 2025 to bring more of this desire into your life?

What is your intention for the new year? I encourage you to create a plan that is concrete, easy, and sustainable—one that keeps your nervous system calm. If your plan feels overwhelming, fight-or-flight may take over, leading to burnout. On the other hand, if it feels too daunting, a freeze response might prevent you from starting at all.

Even if your goal feels “small,” try it out as an experiment. The worst that can happen is you don’t follow through—something we’ve all experienced, but the best that can happen is real, joyful change.

If you’ve set an intention for 2025 and created a sustainable, fun plan, I’d love to hear about it. Share your story and I’m looking forward to being inspired by your desire. 

If you would like to explore the practice of maitrī, or loving-kindness, as a tool to foster compassion and empathy towards yourself check out my newest self-study course.