The words that changed the way I’m entering 2026

Friend, the week before Christmas, my husband and I took our two living children to experience New York City in all her holiday glory.

It seemed like a good idea at the time of our planning, but let me tell you, I soon questioned our life decisions.

I’m not sure what I expected, but I’ll tell you what we got: wall-to-wall humans in Midtown Manhattan, shoulder to shoulder, squeezed into slow-moving lanes of holiday chaos. We were like ants in a nest, everyone trying to see the lights, “the” tree, Times Square, or just get where they needed to go.

It. Was. Madness.

I had my nine-year-old daughter by the shoulders, steering her in front of me through the crowd. My son and husband were behind me, doing our best to stay together as we were herded like cattle.

The whole thing was sensory overload. Freezing, noisy, claustrophobic. No room to breathe. Honestly, I felt almost primal protecting my baby.

A woman suddenly pushed up into my daughter from the front as she was weaving her way past. She was about to knock right into her, so I instinctively exclaimed, “There’s a child here! There’s a child here!” Not yelling, just speaking urgently, because I thought she hadn’t seen her.

The woman, with a grounded presence and calm that pierced through the chaos, said to me, “I am aware of your child. I was pushed, you know. I am a human, too.”

Her words landed straight in my chest. I am a human, too.

Of all the things she could have said in that moment, she, without missing a beat, reminded me that we were the same.

It was the reality check that I needed in the moment. This wasn’t an “us against them” situation (which it truly felt like at first).

Everyone else was navigating this madness, too. They were likely also overwhelmed and overstimulated. They were also being pushed. They were also trying to find the magic.

We were in it together. 

A week later, her gentle truth still rings in my ears.

Wouldn’t it be such a gift to each other if we could remember this every day? That we’re all triaging busy lives, often just trying to make it from one moment to the next. That we’re doing our best to navigate the noise, anxiety, and the overwhelm. That we’re all looking for joy, connection, peace, and love.

So, if I could offer an invitation for 2026, it’s this:

Let’s remember each other.

Let’s soften into grace before judgment.

Let’s offer kindness before anything else.

Let’s reach back out for one another – even if the last season has made us want to pull away.

Let’s remember that we’re all human, too.

Friend, my heart tells me that this remembering will make all the difference for us in the year ahead. And that’s why I will continue doing this work: creating spaces where we gather for deeply meaningful human connection and healing.

I can’t wait to see you there. 💛

In Love, Light, and healing,