I turn 66 on Sunday.

I’ve always loved the symmetry of double numbers. 22, 33, 44, 55. They feel like a checkpoint. A moment to look back and forward at the same time.

This one definitely lands like that. My son Connor went off-grid when he was 22. This birthday, I’ll be exactly three times his age. Three of his lifetimes lived in one of mine. I don’t know what to do with that math except to honour it and notice that the years keep layering, and he’s woven into all of them.

Being a Capricorn with a birthday right after New Year’s means I’ve always gotten a double dose of fresh-start energy. The collective reset and the personal one, stacked. For a long time, I used that energy to make resolutions, set goals, build plans.

Now I just start.

But not because I feel ready. Or I’m motivated. But because I’ve lived enough cycles to know that waiting for the feeling is the trap.

Here’s what’s moving.

The first full week of 2026 is asking you to come home to yourself and what actually nourishes you. To come home to the people and places that hold you.

Emotions are still close to the surface. The first Full Moon of the year just passed, and it stirred up everything about family, belonging, and what the heart needs to feel safe. But let it be stirred. That’s not a problem to solve as much as information.

And under the tenderness, the building season has begun. The energy right now is grounded, steady, and…strategic. It’s not about dreaming, but doing. Laying foundations. Committing to what you actually want to build, not just what sounds good on January 1st.

So, the question isn’t what do I want this year? The better question is, what am I willing to build, slowly, whether I feel like it or not?

Here’s the belief that won’t survive this week.

“I need to feel motivated to start.”

This is the lie that keeps people stuck for years. I’ve witnessed them waiting for clarity, for energy, for the morning they wake up and finally feel ready.

But motivation doesn’t create action. Action creates motivation. Structure creates momentum. You don’t wait for the feeling. You build the container, and the feeling catches up.

If you notice, the people who change their lives aren’t usually the ones who feel inspired, but the ones who started before they were ready and kept going until the inspiration caught up with them.

Blake learned this with his hip recovery. Fighting it didn’t work. Waiting to feel better didn’t work. What worked was moving WITH it to let the structure of recovery carry him forward. He’s driving now. Gardening too. And walking Jack around the property two or three times a day. But it’s not because he woke up one morning feeling healed. It’s because he started before he felt ready, and his body followed.

If you’re waiting to feel motivated, you’ll wait forever. Start anyway. The feeling will catch up.

Here’s the part that’s hard to see on your own.

I watch clients do this all the time. They wait for clarity before they reach out. They wait for the “right time” to get support. And they wait until they’ve figured out more on their own.

I get it. It feels responsible, like you shouldn’t need help until you know what you need help with.

But that’s the trap too. Because the waiting is the problem. The isolation is what keeps the fog in place. The trying-to-figure-it-out-alone is exactly what makes everything take three times longer than it needs to.

Support creates momentum. Having someone to think with, someone who remembers your patterns and can see the shape of what you’re building when you’re lost in the middle of it, is not a luxury you earn after you’ve got it together. It’s usually the thing that helps you get it together in the first place.

You don’t have to feel ready to reach out. You just have to reach out and let the readiness catch up.

Jonni

P.S. Oh, and because so many of you asked, here’s a Jack update: He hasn’t even been here a month yet, and it feels like forever, in the best way. Blake takes him out on his harness two or three times a day, and they walk the garden together. Sometimes I’m out with the ducks; sometimes I’m not. Tilly, the quack pack leader, walked right up to him last week in her best I’m not scared of you energy. Jack turned around with a cool I wasn’t interested anyway and wandered off.

So far, so good. We’re all learning to share the territory.

P.S. Sunday, I’m giving myself what I’m inviting you to give yourself: a slow start. No resolutions. Just presence. And maybe cake. (Who am I fooling? It will be pie. Definitely pie.) Happy New Year. May your 2026 be built on what actually matters.