Let the year end without effort. 

Each year, as December folds into January, we often try to mark the moment with declarations — resolutions, plans, new intentions. But this year, I find myself meeting the turn of the calendar not with effort, but with presence.

Not presence as something to “bring” into the new year. Not something to practice or perfect. But the kind that simply is. That arrives when I stop. When I notice. When I allow receivership.

No to-do list. No reinvention.
Just a quiet “wow” at what happens when you pause long enough to feel the moment noticing you.

At the Edge of the Year

The closing days of the year have always felt a little different — like standing at the shoreline after the tide has pulled back, barefoot, not needing to go anywhere for a minute.

There’s a collective hush in the air. A subtle permission to stop chasing the next thing.

And when I do…
Presence is already here. It doesn’t need me to earn it or polish it.
It just needs me to stop trying so hard.

This is receivership. Not something mystical or out of reach — just a return to our natural awareness.

And in that receivership, there’s a kind of coherence that begins to hum underneath everything. Quiet, yes. But undeniable.

Receivership Is Not a Resolution

You’ve heard it before: New year, new you.

But let me tell you something I’ve come to appreciate:
The you that shows up when you stop trying to improve yourself is usually the one that’s already more than enough.

We tend to confuse growth with effort. We equate healing with fixing.

But receivership flips all that. It’s the realization that you don’t need to make something happen. Something is already happening. And when you allow awareness to meet it… healing shows up. Sometimes without fireworks. Often without fanfare. But it shows up.

Stillness doesn’t need your performance.
It just needs a little space.

How to Know When You’re Trying Too Hard

(And Might Want to Take a Breath Instead)

• You’ve got a color-coded spreadsheet titled “How to Relax Better in 2026.”

• You keep refreshing your email to see if the Universe replied.

• Your meditation playlist is longer than your attention span.

• You’re trying to manifest stillness by sheer force of will.

• You said, “I’m letting go now!” …and then checked to make sure it was working.

If any of that sounds familiar — no judgment. Just maybe… step away from the spreadsheet. Let presence catch up to you. (Spoiler: It already has.)

A How-To Guide for Ending the Year in Presence

No pressure. No timer. No “best version of you” required.

Just a few suggestions to let this moment be:

1. Pause without a purpose

Not to meditate. Not to reflect. Just to pause. For no reason at all. You’ll be amazed how much shows up in that kind of silence.

2. Let presence find you

You don’t need to chase presence or pretend to be more aware than you are. Just notice what’s already here.

3. Don’t resolve. Receive.

You’re not a project. You don’t need fixing. Receivership begins when you allow yourself to feel what's present… not what’s missing.

4. Feel the coherence of stillness

You don’t need to create coherence. It’s already present when you stop scrambling to control everything.

5. Notice what remains

When the mental noise fades — when you stop pushing, pulling, doing — what’s left? That’s the real beginning. That’s you.

A Quiet Revolution

Reconnective Healing® doesn’t ask you to direct energy, balance chakras, or hold any pose. It simply invites you to return to awareness. To receivership. To what’s already here, moving in ways you don’t have to manage.

That’s why presence is such a powerful teacher — and why we weave this experience throughout everything we offer, from our community gatherings to our learning programs.

In the Reconnective Life Community, we live this rhythm together. Not by becoming more. But by remembering what we already are.

And in our Complete Online Course Bundle, presence isn’t a lesson. It’s the foundation. A way to shift from doing to allowing. From seeking to sensing.

No striving.
Just noticing.

The Poets Got It Right

Sometimes I think the poets had a clearer handle on healing than most of us.

T. S. Eliot writes in Little Gidding, “For last year’s words belong to last year’s language / And next year’s words await another voice.”

This is presence in practice:
We don’t carry the past or predict the future — we receive what’s here, now. Without needing to rename it.

Read the full poem – Little Gidding by T. S. Eliot (Columbia University)

As This Year Ends…

I’m not asking you to plan anything.
I’m not wishing you big breakthroughs or big shifts.

I’m wishing you… stillness.
Receivership.
A moment where presence does all the heavy lifting — because you allowed it to.

There’s nothing to prove.
Nothing to push through.
Just you, here, now. And the subtle rhythm of coherence that’s already carrying you forward.

Here’s to a beginning that doesn’t begin with effort — but with ease.
Not a blank page. Just the same beautiful story, paused… and resumed with presence.

With warmth,
Eric

As This Year Ends…

I’m not asking you to plan anything.
I’m not wishing you big breakthroughs or big shifts.

I’m wishing you… stillness.
Receivership.
A moment where presence does all the heavy lifting — because you allowed it to.

There’s nothing to prove.
Nothing to push through.
Just you, here, now. And the subtle rhythm of coherence that’s already carrying you forward.

Here’s to a beginning that doesn’t begin with effort — but with ease.
Not a blank page. Just the same beautiful story, paused… and resumed with presence.

With warmth,
Eric