Bravery
A universal New Year’s Resolution
We’ve all heard the stats: more than 80% of New Year’s resolutions fail by month one, and fewer than 10% survive until the Earth completes her next lap around the sun. The research is plentiful and the equation is simple. We resolve to change in extreme, unrealistic ways, focusing almost exclusively on the end goal, without building the scaffolding, like habits and clear plans, required for lasting transformation. Ultimately, the needle never tips.
Because failure has become a statistical foregone conclusion, many of us have adopted a new approach: the anti-New Year’s resolution. If we don’t commit in the first place, we won’t have to endure yet another year of disappointing ourselves. Case closed.
Or is it?
How many of you have cleaned out a drawer this week? Started writing in that blank journal you were gifted over the holidays? Declared you’re “not doing resolutions” while quietly committing to daily walks in 2026?
Likely even the most devout anti-resolutionists don’t escape the magnetic pull toward renewal that surfaces this time of year. Like a colossal wave rising from an otherwise flat ocean, this surge of motivation and creative inertia is undeniable. It’s natural. Look around. Bulbs are stirring beneath frozen soil, clearing space in the dark as they prepare to meet the sun. Animals are responding to longer days, emerging, migrating, and beginning to (pro)create. Whether we acknowledge it or not, we are part of this rhythm and most of us are already moving with it.
Each year, I find myself trying to reconcile these two forces: my resistance to end-state resolutions that feel doomed to fail, and the equally powerful urge to lean into the intuition to elevate my spirit, my body, and, yes, my sock drawer.
As I reflect on this paradox, one key ingredient keep rises to the surface: bravery.
Ironically, my most “successful” New Year’s resolution was a complete backfire. In college, determined to finally win at resolutions, I gave up Diet Coke, something I barely drank to begin with. It was arbitrary, achievable, and technically good for my health. I made it an entire year without a sip and felt a fleeting sense of accomplishment, until January arrived and I celebrated so enthusiastically that I developed a full-blown addiction to the very thing I’d quit. How lame. It was never even a problem. I wasn’t pursuing a deeply desired dream, rather, I was chasing accomplishment that required zero courage.
What about all the other years I felt the surge of the season, resolved to change, and didn’t succeed? Was there a pattern in my goals? And was there a consistent barrier I kept avoiding? The answer, it turns out, was yes and yes.
When I return to that still place deep in the ocean where my January wave is born and I ask, What keeps originating here? the answer has been consistent. Year after year, the wave has carried the same two longings: to be fluent in Spanish and to kick ass on the tennis court.
These desires are based on how I feel when I’m inside them. When I play tennis, I never want it to end. When I’m immersed in Spanish language and culture, I feel an unmistakable sense of home. Practicing tennis and Spanish are like spoon-feeding candy to my soul. They are undeniably two of my biggest macro-joys.
I’ve come to see that these passions are puzzle pieces of my wholeness, which is why they swell up every January. And yet, for years, my deep desire to pursue them is exactly what has kept me from committing. How ironic.
As long as they stayed labeled as “dreams” or “life goals,” they could maintain the potential to come true. Commitment, after all, invites failure. What if I tried and lost every match? What if I studied diligently and never achieved fluency?
What if these two things I so deeply desired would ultimately prove to be unattainable in my life?
Facing this question required a level of bravery I hadn’t yet practiced. Instead, I hid behind excuses: There aren’t enough hours in the day. I don’t have the money. I should spend my free time with the kids. Duolingo is boring. Split steps make me pee my pants. Underneath every excuse lived the same thing: fear. Fear that I would try and fail. The obstacle was never time or talent. It was bravery.
Then, serendipity intervened. Without declarations or resolutions, our world trip quietly wove both Spanish and tennis into my life. I was already fully emersed in bravery - a prerequisite for our round-the-world adventure. In San Sebastián, I enrolled in an intensive Spanish course with a marvelous teacher, Laura. In Costa Rica, our casa happened to sit right beside a tennis court. Imagine that! For sheer convenience, I picked up a racket and signed up for lessons (with a coach who didn’t speak English… double points!).
By the time we returned to the US, I was already riding the wave. I didn’t put either down. I now study Spanish daily. Laura and I meet weekly on Zoom, despite a seven-hour time difference. Some days I spend half the lesson in tears, overwhelmed by the enormity of learning another language. Other days, I surprise myself by getting lost in long, fluid conversations. A few months ago, I enrolled in a tennis ladder and started playing real matches for the first time in my adult life. Terrifying. Thrilling. And am I kicking ass? Absolutely not. I’ve lost all but one match. And am I fluent? ¡De ninguna manera!
My biggest fear, that I wouldn’t become fluent or kick ass on the court, has come true. In fact, I’m no where close to achieving either. But shockingly, I’m okay. I’m actually more than okay because both Spanish and tennis are finally a major part of my lifestyle and it’s lighting up my life.
Although technically I’ve failed my original New Year’s Resolutions, I’ve learned that the dream was never about mastery or an end state (thank you, Diet Coke). It was about the bravery to show up and to say yes to the practices that stretch me, humble me, and bring me macro-doses of joy.
Maybe that’s the deeper invitation of January, not to simply resolve, but to lean into the bravery required to face what is holding us back from living out our dreams.
As you feel the natural surge of motivation and inspiration of the season, here are a few questions to sit with:
What keeps rising to the top of your resolution list? It might help to revisit the prompts from the dreams post.
Where might fear or shame be disguising itself as practicality, timing, or logic, ultimately preventing you from taking a step toward your goals?
Is bravery starting with forgiving yourself for a habit or lifestyle you are ready to release?
What would it look like to commit, not to an outcome, but to the first step in inviting your goal into your life?
"You can choose courage,
or you can choose comfort,
but you cannot choose both."
~Brené Brown
Sending you loads of love as we all begin a new year,
Daniela Young,
Founder, The Ōnda Collective
