photograph by frank murtaugh
I like the 1st of January. Closing one 12-month book and opening another.
You might consider it part of a managing editor’s circulatory system: We exist to see a project finished — and another begun — smoothly. How can the next year be navigated smoothly? How will the next 12 months impact my health, and vice versa?
Let’s start with the basics. This column could begin and end with three words for any concept of “new you” one might entertain: diet, exercise, and sleep. If you’re not giving these elements of your life proper attention, the rest may as well be sugar in your coffee. Your taste buds may benefit, but don’t expect growth elsewhere.
Below are six proposals that stretch a bit from the Big Three, easy steps you might consider in shaping your own, brand-new 2026. As for “new you,” let’s scrap that. The current you is unique, and makes the world better. A healthier, happier you is the goal.
◗ Find a new “third place.” If you work from home, this would be a second place. The mind and body crave variety, particularly of the spacial sort. As comfy as your home, or even your office, may feel, a familiar destination will both stiff-arm monotony and actually make the comfy first/second places more so.
I’ve recently discovered the 2.25-mile promenade around Hyde Lake at Shelby Farms. For a decade, my visits to Shelby Farms were for hiking trails and the delightfully huge no-leash dog park. But since my dog died last June, a walk around this particular body of water — ducks here, cranes there, a paddle-boarder in the distance — has been my tranquil place. It comes with free smiles and waves from others who appreciate a getaway so close to home. And that’s the point: We need getaways. Don’t wait for your next vacation to take one.
Let someone know you’re thinking of them, and make this a mailbox surprise. It will be the most distinctive part of the recipient’s day. Instead of a “new you,” you’ve helped spark a “new them.” Two human beings will be better for it.
◗ Establish an achievable goal. This doesn’t need to be “lose 20 pounds” or “run a 10K.” But we need markers to reach, to surpass even. If there’s a thick or dense book you’ve considered intimidating, make this the year you read it. How about dining at five local restaurants you’ve yet to visit? (Once you hit five, you’ll want to make it ten.) One of my favorite achievable goals: See a friend you haven’t seen in years. Nothing will make you feel younger, and nothing will make you feel more “new” than reconnecting with someone you befriended a life stage ago. If geographic distance is a factor, we have technology that will bring that friend into your living room. Use that cell phone for some good.
◗ Come up with a meditation mantra. “I don’t have time to meditate!” Yes. You. Do. If there’s anything everyone could use in the year 2026, it’s some quiet time, minus all screens and distractions. Even if it’s merely 10 minutes of your day (or evening), letting your mind rest on purpose will benefit the rest of your body.
I suffer middle-of-the-night thought tornadoes. Head on pillow but wide awake, the darkness more ominous than when I turned off the lights. But I’m silencing these storms, in part through visualizing places that bring me joy, but especially with a mantra I repeat, silently (based on my favorite Hawaiian beach): Sand. Sea. Sky. Makua. Makua. The fact that I don’t remember when I fall back to sleep is part of the magic. Part of the effort.
Ours is a busy world. There is scrolling to do (and it will get done). Reward yourself with true “me time,” and create the, ahem, passwords to get there.
◗ Eliminate something from your diet, and add something new. Again, if you’re not paying attention to what you eat (fruits and veggies, veggies and fruits), good health will be a reach. But just tweaking the menu a bit can go a long way. I’ve made some hard cuts over the years: fried food (when cholesterol entered the conversation during a checkup), ice cream (when I chose to read up on what saturated fat does to your body). And I’ve made some additions that have become regular pleasures: blueberries to start each day, a weekly lunch with smoked oysters (they ride a cracker with a drop of mustard for extra flavor).
I’m betting you have multiple items in your pantry or fridge that would qualify as indulgence. Just subtract one. And it doesn’t have to be forever. Try a month without your favorite potato chips, and see how much you miss them. Instead of cheese on your favorite cracker, try some flavored hummus. (I had to be convinced, and it’s a winner.) Dramatic diets are for infomercials. Modify is the operative word.
◗ Commit to a daily activity. And I mean daily. Two decades ago, I decided to do 31 push-ups every day. (My lucky number, not random.) These days, I’m up to 41 and while I don’t do them daily, they are part of a larger exercise routine that I would not have envisioned in 2005.
Walk (or run) a mile. Every day. No excuses. Write in a journal. Read ten pages of that intimidating book. Eat something that grew on a bush or tree. Listen to a favorite (but different) song, and keep a tally of your 365-tune playlist for New Year’s Eve.
Whether or not you consider yourself a Type A, your mind and body crave routine, recognizable behavior that serves as a reset on a busy day, or a booster for a quiet one. Consider your daily act a gift to yourself. And you’ll enjoy adding days to this streak of self-giving. Count them, because you’re worth it.
◗ Write a letter to someone you love. This will require research (a mailing address), tools (a pen and sheet of paper), and resources (a stamp). But it will be among the most worthwhile activities of your year.
There was a time, friends, when a human being would devote anywhere from ten minutes to a few hours entirely to another human being. Thoughts and observations, personal or profound, sometimes both. There was no aim for clicks or “likes.” This was the opposite of seeking a mass audience. The aim was to “influence” precisely one other person. This can still be done. Let someone know you’re thinking of them, and make this a mailbox surprise. It will be the most distinctive part of the recipient’s day. Instead of a “new you,” you’ve helped spark a “new them.” Two human beings will be better for it.
