We are coming up at the end of the year, an obvious time for reflection and looking forward with intention. 2025 was certainly a year of big changes. Most everyone I know was going through it to some capacity. I think it would be naive to say that it didn’t impact our society as a whole; almost every corner of the world seems to have some upheaval or transformation. And yet, I feel like many of us knew this before it even began.

There are many corners of the spiritual internet that have been predicting a time of great transformation. Astrologers have kept an eye on all of the prominent planets changing signs in a two-year span. Human Design is preparing for the shift into the Cross of the Sleeping Phoenix. Even those with no specific framework have been talking about prophecies, predictions, and messages of this time. I have been curious to explore the entire topic of what 2027 may be. But for now, I’ve been feeling a little closer on the horizon.

I want to take a look at both 2026 as a whole, but January itself as a portal into the new energy. 2026 has a change from the shedding and texture of 2025. But January seems to be a unique bridge between the two, not matching quite either and not just a blend of the two.

Long Leap of Faith Down

When I first tapped into what January would hold, I felt myself walking up to the edge of a snowy cliff. Like there was a vast landscape in front of me, but the only way to reach it was straight down. It was dark and deep in the drop in front of me, but I knew it was the only way.

This can have obvious symbolism if we let it. We’ve been waiting for the shoe to drop for some time, and this could be the time that an actual event is finally in front of us. Or it could be that we have the bravery to take the leap first and trust we’ll get to the other side of the landscape that awaits us. I had the knowing that the bottom of the drop would have soft, untouched snow to catch our fall at the bottom, even if I couldn’t see it. But I also think we could fly if we put trust in ourselves to do so.

Soft Hush

This was the best way to describe the sense of calm that I felt at the bottom of the drop. Whether we let the snow catch us or flutter to a soft landing on our own, I knew that we would be safe at the bottom. It doesn’t take away the thrill or unease we feel on the way down, but holding on to the trust that we will be okay at the other end makes it easier to take the leap.

When I got to the bottom, it was a sudden sense of peace or quiet that surrounded me. If you’ve ever been out in nature during a windy winter and find an alcove or protected space that takes you out of the noise and the elements, you know what a strange opposition it is. The past few months - this whole year, really - I have been picking up on every energetic noise you can imagine. Static, electric, background fuzz, a collective hum, a steady beat. It was like energetic music became the constant we didn’t even actively notice as it stretched out all year. But January has a sudden silence that puts every subtlety at the forefront. There is going to be a sudden shift out of the long held energy we’ve had.

Rest and Rise

This quiet, soft landing may be unsettling for some people. It may be a moment to pause and check in with yourself. For those that dislike change and avoid risk, the leap we experience may be something you need to take time to re-center afterwards. Check in with your senses, your limbs, your joints. Being in the body will do all of us good as we process whatever may come. And for some people it will be necessary after the leap. Allow yourself to do so.

Even for those that embrace the leap, this pace and energy will be a change and we can take time to recalibrate. There’s a very special feeling to the slow walk in the snowy woods on to wherever we will go. I think of part of the classic poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost:

“He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

January feels like a snow globe where we can examine the unique quality of this exact moment. A mindfulness as we are aware of the importance of this portal, and the transience of what we are moving through. Embrace it and allow it, and hold on to the goodness as you can.

Once we get to the other side of the woods and into the expanse of 2026, we are going to have a whole new world in front of us. It will be one thing to look at the landscape from afar, from on top of the cliff that is 2025. It will be another thing entirely to walk through with 2026 in front of us with its texture, adventure, and the new air that fills our lungs.

New Growing Practice

I’m sure you’ve heard that 2025 was a 9 year, full of closures and endings. Year of the Snake, with the process of shedding everything that no longer serves us. The Hermit tarot card, setting out on your own to evolve. Without knowing it, I picked up on this energy in my 2025 update. A background of high mountains with their rocky terrain and climbing journey. 2026 moves into a 1 year, full of beginnings and new energy. Year of the Horse, allowing us to put energy and strength into where we are headed. The Magician tarot card, allowing us to take the imagination and vision and bring it to life.

That doesn’t mean 2026 will be a breeze of a year. It is a lot of “new.” When I start new things, there are always bumps and growing pains. I am the new kid on the block and my muscles are not developed enough to run on the new terrain in front of me. But the way to best improve as we take a step into the new is just that - take the first steps.

We are all going to feel off balance as we develop our new selves. Getting to know the beat of a new song. The metaphorical, or maybe even literal, muscle memory that we have to start to build in whatever new practice we will incorporate in this year. Bringing the vision into life always brings a visceral approach that we couldn’t expect.

So give yourself grace this year. We will start to make things happen that we’ve been holding on to for a long time. They are not going to be the glossed-over picture-perfect way we imagine them in our head. But they are going to be real and in front of us, and that will be worth every stumble on the way.

Ebb and Flow

Our journey also won’t be a perfect march forward, with the stumble here and there. There will be three steps forward, two steps back. Two forward, one to the side. Pause. Step forward, fall down. It will be a waltz more than a march. But as long as we start to tune in to the new tune, we’ll get the steps down the more we dance.

There has been a lot of talk of “surrender” to energy; not giving up, but allowing something bigger than ourselves to carry us and to not fight it. Being strong is not always standing strong with our legs, but sometimes swimming strong with our arms to keep us afloat in the tides. This is going to be a year where the tide comes in and out, and surrendering means going along with all of it.

If last year was that journey up the mountain, than surrender to the flow of energy was a river going down the journey. If this year is a long stretch of landscape before us, then surrender is the tides washing in and out along the shore. But Year of the Horse will allow us to run along the sands, getting more used to the unsteady ground beneath us as we follow the waves.

Evolution

With all of this new terrain, new speed, new leveling up, this is going to be a year of evolution. There is so much growth on the journey that we can’t possibly predict. I don’t know what this is going to bring for me, for you, for each of us. The stereotypical story is that the butterfly can’t possibly tell the caterpillar what it is to cocoon and to fly. My nerdy brain saw the journey of a Pokemon, with something like a Charmander, Dratini or Magikarp, and coming to the end of the year as a Charizard, Dragonite or Gyarados. Of course there is the traditional story of the koi that tries to leap up the waterfall for 100 years, and is rewarded by being transformed into a dragon.

I think we’ve put in some time leaping up our own waterfalls. It certainly has felt like a journey of 100 years at some points, or stepping forward for 100 miles. I feel by the end of this journey, we will look back to the koi or Magikarp we are now as our evolved dragon or Gyarados self and hardly recognize who we are now. We will be building up those muscles for our “new growing practice” and reap the rewards from the garden of our efforts. Both individually and collectively.

It isn’t a coasting of a year. It is a year that will take effort. But I think this will be a year that the rewards will be directly correlational to the work that we put in.

You may know that I had been dealing with chronic health issues for some year. I had adapted to running on maybe 65-70% full capacity. Putting in 100% of the effort that I could got me just to the finish line. When I had my surgery this last summer, it was like any cap or constraint was gone. I put in 100% of my usual paths of effort and find myself flying past any benchmark or goal I would have had in the past. Sometimes it feels like “I be doing too much” but when you take the weights off your ankles, you feel ready to fly.

I think this is a year where we are going to remove our constraints. The ankle weights come off. We need to be prepared to put in the same effort as before, but we are going to see the rewards of our efforts like never before. It won’t be a straight shot, it won’t be from day 1. But as we build up the strengths of our new practice and new selves in this new landscape, the destination will be so worth the journey.

January Energy and 2026 Beyond