Hello, fellow lovers of all things green. As we begin a new year, we tend to reflect on what no longer serves us and set intentions that grow in their own time.
I’m writing this on a cold winter morning, shortly after a quick cross-country ski around the property. A light dusting of snow fell overnight, softening the ice-skating rink below and quieting the world just enough to hear the barred owl calling from the woods. I paused mid-sentence in my podcast recording when he began to hoot (link below)— and smiled when his mate answered back. Even in winter, nature reminds us that life continues.
A new year always feels like that fresh snowfall — covering what came before, not to erase it, but to give us a clean view of what is ahead. The garden never truly starts over; it rests, resets, and prepares for what comes next. And so do we.
Small Movements, Gentle Strength
In recent years, I’ve been invited to a virtual New Year’s Eve gathering hosted by my dear writer friend, Reverend Dr. Christina Tillotson of the Seaside Center for Spiritual Living. Christina is the author of a book-in-progress, Digital Souls: Weaving Loss, Spirituality, and Technology to Transform Your Life, and a T’ai Chi Chih instructor. I’ve had the joy of taking her online classes.
T’ai Chi Chih is a gentle moving meditation shown to reduce stress, improve balance and circulation,
This year, I fell asleep before Christina’s New Year’s Eve gathering began. I woke shortly after midnight to welcome the year in my own quiet way. And maybe that, too, was perfect. The garden never scolds us for missing a moment. There’s always beauty unfolding.
Composting What No Longer Serves
In past gatherings, Christina invited participants to release what no longer serves them from the previous year and set intentions for the year ahead. Participants wrote their words on paper and placed them into a bowl of water as a symbol of release. But really, you can do this any way that feels right to you—on paper, in your journal, or even quietly in your mind.
I like to think of releasing as composting. We don’t discard what’s spent; we return it to the soil where it can break down and eventually nourish something new. Old habits, outdated stories, lingering fears — they’re like invasive plants that once took hold but no longer belong in the garden we’re tending now.
Looking back at notes from earlier years, I see how much has shifted. In one season, I wrote about releasing self-doubt, worry, fear, and even physical pain. Some of those have eased. Some have transformed. And some — like worry — still pop up from time to time. When they do, I pause and breathe— much like stepping back and allowing Mother Nature do what she does best.
Intentions Instead of Resolutions
Rather than New Year’s resolutions — which often fade faster than seedlings left too long in full sun — Christina encourages setting intentions or visions. She suggests beginning them with “I am.”
That phrase—I Am—has deep spiritual roots. In the Christian tradition, when God says “I AM,” it expresses eternal presence and self-existence—being beyond time, definition, or limitation. When we say “I am,” we declare our belief that God lives within us. At least that’s how I understand it. And for those who use different language — Universe, Source, Spirit— the meaning remains the same. We are part of something larger than ourselves.
Some of my I am intentions from last year included:
Volunteer Oak
I am helping people heal and grow in their lives.
I am relaxed about what I share through the column, podcast, and book underway.
I am healthy.
I am on my way to finishing The Lesson of the Leaf.
Christina once said, “You never know how long it takes for the seed of intention to grow — until you look at it the following year.”
Isn’t that just like the garden? Some seeds sprout quickly. Others take seasons. Some remain dormant until conditions are just right. All in their perfect time.
Growth That Serves Others
I am more at peace.
I am making a difference in improving care for the elderly and gravely ill.
And I’m grateful to share that my singing partner, Ken Roberts, and I are wrapping up the final recordings for our project, The Songs of Hospice. What began as a way to raise awareness about end-of-life care has grown into something more — a calling card to help raise support to bring the Karen Ann Quinlan Home for Hospice back to life, serving patients and families as it has so beautifully for the past eleven years.
Growth often begins as a small seed planted quietly — until one day, you look back and realize a forest has taken root.
Your Own New Year Ritual
And so, as we step into this new year, I invite you not to follow anyone else’s ritual exactly, but to explore your own.
What’s ready to be released?
What’s ready to be planted?
What might need more time beneath the soil?
May this year unfold gently.
May you trust the season you’re in.
And may your intentions — like well-tended gardens — grow in their own perfect time.
Thank you for sharing this garden of life with me. Garden Dilemmas? AskMaryStone@gmail.com and your favorite Pocast App.
There’s more to the story in the Garden Dilemmas Podcast:
Link for more about Rev. Dr. Christina Tillotson
Related Podcasts and Blog Posts you’ll enjoy:
Essential Nutrients for Gardens and Life – Blog Post
Episode 141. Essential Nutrients for Gardens and Life
Benefits of Gardening – Blog Post
