As I sit here on a Sunday afternoon watching The Grinch for what feels like the hundredth time this month with my niece, I can’t help but feel how much of a joy and a privilege it is to see the world through her eyes. She doesn’t care that Christmas was a few days ago or that it’s no longer the “appropriate time” to watch The Grinch. She likes it, so we watch it. Simple as that.
With the new year comes the usual talk of resolutions: What intentions do we want to set? What changes do we want to make to become better versions of ourselves? But thinking about my niece and her unfiltered joy makes me wonder, why do we wait for a new year to do this? Why can’t we make changes on a random day, in a random month, in the middle of an ordinary year?
The same goes for joy. Why do we wait for it?
Through a child’s eyes, time doesn’t exist the way it does for adults. They think about what they want to do—and then they do it. I can’t even count how many times my niece has eaten a burrito at 9 a.m. (and not a breakfast one). She isn’t concerned with norms or expectations. Meanwhile, as adults, we often feel pressure to fit into what society says is acceptable or “normal.”
As caregivers especially, we spend so much of our time focusing on how to help others experience joy. And while that does bring fulfillment in its own way, it’s just as important to turn that care inward and do the same for ourselves.
Standing on the brink of a big change in the coming week, I find myself asking what truly brings me joy. I know that this next year will require some exploration—figuring out what fills my cup and what doesn’t. I want to focus on myself more this year. And when I allow myself to sit with that thought, I sometimes wonder why I didn’t do this sooner. How did I get so far without fully honoring how important that is?
But again, timing doesn’t matter. What matters is recognizing the need and honoring it when it shows up.
The holidays have a way of making us pause and reflect. They act as a timestamp, reminding us of what has changed and what has remained constant from year to year. They can bring sadness, nostalgia, and overwhelm—but I think that can be healthy too. Those emotions tell us something if we’re willing to listen.
Intentions shouldn’t be reserved for January 1st. They should be set always. And so, that is my intention for the coming year: to set intentions continuously. Some days those intentions will still be for others—but my goal is to include myself as well.
I’m looking forward to not postponing my own joy. To staying home when I need rest. To saying no when something doesn’t align with my intentions for that day or that season. This year, time is just time, and I’m choosing not to place restrictions on it.