As we cross the threshold into a brand new year, everyone’s trying to outwit their flaws with resolutions and willpower.

There’s a collective tightening that takes place. Gym memberships spike. Sugar gets demonized. Budgets are squeezed into spreadsheets.

Everyone’s vowing to be better, neater, more disciplined, less human.

But as we move into 2026, I’m here to propose a different sort of discipline.

Let the goal-setters have their bullet journals and checklists.
Let the biohackers chase their 5 a.m. wake-ups and spirulina smoothies.
Let the productivity cult march onward with their color-coded calendars.

You? You were made for something more sacred. You were made for yearning.

Not the desperate, self-punishing kind. Not the kind that reeks of lack and loops you in the lie that you are not enough.

No. I mean the erotic kind. The reverent kind. The kind of wanting that stretches you toward God/Goddess.

Once upon a time – before shame sank its claws into our mothers’ spines – a woman’s yearning was an ethereal act.

She knew what she wanted.
She liked what she wanted.
And she trusted that her longing was the language of the divine.

When she yearned, it wasn’t from emptiness. It was from aliveness. From generosity. From gladness. Not a symptom of not-having. But a sign of being so in tune with Spirit, her very ache became a hymn.

But now?

We punish ourselves for wanting. We call it “ambition” when it’s masculine-coded, and “too much” when it’s ours.

Here’s the switch I want you to flip: What if your yearning is not here to torment you – but to teach you how to pray?

Because at its core, desire is an interface. A two-way frequency between your deepest self and the mystery that made you.

And when you learn to yearn not from absence but from attunement – the universe starts answering in tongues.

This year, don’t resolve. Revere. 
Don’t fix yourself. Adore yourself.
Don’t clench. Don’t plan. Don’t strive.

Just widen, want, weep, if you must – but let it be a weeping that waters the roots of your next becoming.

Make your desire lists by candlelight and read them aloud like scripture. Decorate them with lipstick kisses. Let them drip with pleasure.

And when you’re ready, report back to me:

What are you yearning for this year? And can you want it without apology? Can you let it melt you open? Can you trust it enough to speak it out loud, and let it lead?

With so much love and pleasure,