Bold Changes

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." — Anaïs Nin

There's something about the start of a new year that makes us want to believe we can simply turn the page and become someone new. But real change? That's a different story altogether.

According to the Chinese calendar, 2025 was the year of the Snake—the teacher of shedding, of loosening what's grown too tight, of slipping out of identities we once thought were permanent. And let me tell you, the Snake didn't ask my permission before she showed up. She simply arrived and said, "It's time."

I resisted at first. Of course I did.

The shedding happened in ways I didn't expect—through unpleasant obstacles dropped squarely in my path, through relationship patterns I was certain I'd already learned from (spoiler: I hadn't), and through the very place I call home. My safe little nest perched on the 18th floor with its northeastern view of city rooftops and Cascade foothills. A place I truly love.

But my inner voice kept whispering, "It's time for a change."

I didn't want to hear it. I certainly didn't want to believe that the change I needed wouldn't be found by rearranging the furniture or swapping out the throw pillows. No, this was bigger. This was the kind of knowing that doesn't let you look away.

Move? But where?

My inner voice, ever the cryptic guide, replied, "I'll let you know—stay tuned."

So I waited. I listened. And then, in the spirit of Carrie Bradshaw, just like that, a solution revealed itself.

In February, I'll be leaving the comfort of what I've known as home for the past six years and stepping into what I'm calling my 2026 Adventure. I don't have all the details yet. I don't know exactly what's waiting on the other side. But I do know this: staying in the bud was starting to hurt more than the risk of blooming.

2026 is the year of the Fire Horse—wild, creative, unapologetic motion. It's about bold movement, freedom, and the courage to live unrestrained. If the Snake taught us to shed, the Fire Horse teaches us to leap. She doesn't tiptoe or hesitate. She runs toward her life, not away from it.

And isn't that what we're all being asked to do? To stop clinging to what's familiar just because it's safe? To trust that the version of ourselves we're becoming is worth the discomfort of letting go?

None of us knows the future. But I can tell you this: the version of me who started 2025 is not the same one who ended it. And she's certainly not the one stepping boldly into 2026.

If you're standing at your own crossroads—whether it's a divorce, a career shift, a loss, or simply that quiet knowing that something has to change—I want you to remember the bud. It doesn't bloom because it has all the answers. It blooms because staying closed becomes unbearable.

So today, I invite you to take one small step toward the version of yourself that's waiting. Just one. And if you'd like a little guidance on where to begin, I've created something to help you map it out. You can find it here.

Sending my love and light,
Michèle