Replacing Resolutions with Themes

Linear goals breed competition and isolation.
-Anne-Laure Le Cunff

I've been forever scarred by the term "New Year's Resolutions."

It’s true, I hate it. I hear the phrase, and I am instantly transported to cold Monday nights of my youth, gathered as a family with my (mostly empty) journal before me. The only full page outlined a list of my failures of the past year, glaring back at me, ensuring that I feel bad.

So very bad.

It was never a successful endeavor. I made the resolutions, as instructed by my parents, dutifully noting all the things I was going to work on over the next year. In truth, it was a litany of my many weaknesses. Soon, the list was forgotten, and I’d broken my resolutions. And it hit me, once again.

I'd failed.

The worst part was that I knew it was coming.

Every year, I felt the creeping dread of the upcoming review of those failures. My stomach would twist, waves of cold would wash over me, and I would pray for it to be over quickly.

As an adult, I perpetuated this cycle of suffering. I thought it was just what "good" people did. They made New Year's Resolutions. It was just part of being a productive person. That didn't change the same feelings of creeping dread I had as a child. Now it was amplified, augmented. I was an adult who failed, over and over and over again.

I don't recall the exact moment, but a number of years ago, I realized what a sham the whole process was, and I've abandoned it, never looking back.

Why are resolutions so bad?

Because they are, it's that simple. They aren't productive. Resolutions create mental and emotional fatigue. They don't move us closer to becoming the realized and actualized versions of ourselves that we want.

Let's use a common example.

"I resolve to lose 20 lbs this year."

That seems to fit all the criteria of S.M.A.R.T. goals! The productivity gurus would congratulate us. You see, it is specific: 20 lbs. It is measurable: climb on the scale. It is achievable: if we have 20 lbs to lose, it can be done by a variety of means. It is relevant: I'm sure many of us could benefit from losing some weight (I know I would). And it is time-bound: this year.

Still, it's a bad goal/resolution, and it should feel bad.

What happens if you lose 19 lbs? You failed. What happens if you only lost 5 lbs, but you made other healthy changes on the way to lose those 5 lbs? You still failed your goal. Maybe you started lifting weights, and lost more inches but less weight due to body recomposition?

You are a failure.

That S.M.A.R.T. goal missed the mark.

Okay, so let's adjust: I'm going to improve my health this year!

You have the time-bound part, and it is relevant. But it isn't specific, measurable (at least as stated), nor achievable because it isn't measurable.

It's easy to see the problem. If the resolution meets the S.M.A.R.T. criteria, it is a setup for failure. And if it allows for more flexibility, it becomes impossible to succeed due to a lack of metrics to judge said success or failure.

And what if, partway through the year, you realize that you need to change course a bit? Then you abandon the goal, thus failing once again.

There is no win.

Finally, let's say you succeed. You lose those 20 lbs, maybe even a little more. Are you better off than you were before, truly?

I'd argue that you likely aren't. Where do you go next? Have you established systems that will continue to lead to a healthier life? Maybe, but probably not. The goal was to lose 20 lbs, and it was "damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead." That doesn't take away from the accomplishment of getting there, but you are now left with a "what's next" dilemma.

Goals have endpoints, and once reached, we often revert to our previous state. Lasting change is illusory and elusive.

We need a better option. Enter your yearly theme.

A yearly theme is a guiding idea, a principle for the coming year. It doesn't demand, punish, or proscribe. Your yearly theme enlightens.

The outcomes aren’t dictated, because the theme presupposes zero outcomes. Instead, it establishes a framework for the year, a lens through which your activities can be directed.

And the best part? You cannot fail.

The yearly theme doesn’t punish you. It doesn’t establish a list of tasks, nor arbitrary endpoints to (most likely) never reach. Instead, it invites questions.

“Were my actions today/this week/this month consistent with my theme?” If not, there is no “oh well, guess I blew it!” Instead, there is an opportunity to reassess, refocus, and recommit.

What areas of your life do you want to focus on? Look to your theme, it will suggest, nudge, and guide possible course correction.

And it will do so gently. Therein lies its power.

“But how will you make progress if you don’t have a goal to work toward?”

That seems like a good question. That is, until we take it apart.

Since goals are endpoints, they are something to work toward and then accomplish. When we are done, where are we? Are we actually better off than we were before? If our focus was on the goal, not the systems and theme that got us there, then no, we aren’t.

Our yearly theme establishes a framework for our systems. And that is where real, lasting change lies.

The purpose of setting goals is to win the game. The purpose of building systems is to continue playing the game. True long-term thinking is goal-less thinking. It’s not about any single accomplishment. It is about the cycle of endless refinement and continuous improvement. Ultimately, it is your commitment to the process that will determine your progress.
-James Clear in Atomic Habits

Life is too long to just focus on winning the game. We need to prepare ourselves and build systems that ensure we can keep playing.

Your yearly theme is a key part of that.

Let me make that practical. From my favorite book of 2025:

Learning in public is the opposite of pretending you have everything figured out. Instead, share your real work in real time—the raw stuff, not the highlights reel.
-Anne-Laure Le Cunff in Tiny Experiments

My theme for 2026 is “The Year of Gentle Refinement.”

Previous themes included “The Year of Growth” and, most recently, “The Year of Conscious Action”. While I found good things in both, the process of selecting a yearly theme has required refinement.

Growth was just too big. It was often overwhelming. While it was very easy to make things fit that theme, it also didn’t provide the focus that I felt I needed or wanted. Last year, conscious action was really just a different way to say “intention”, and while it fit what I was looking for, it didn’t really work as well as I had hoped in establishing systems.

That is the key. Your yearly theme should inspire and direct systematic change in your life. Through those systems, goals are met, tasks are accomplished, and projects are finished. But when the task is done, there is no “what next?” You already know what comes next: continued work on the systems that got you there.

Hence, “The Year of Gentle Refinement.”

Why gentle? Well, when I first started workshopping this theme, I was calling it the year of “optimization”.

While I liked the direction it offered me, the phrase instantly caused me to recoil. In medicine, the word “optimization” has become so weaponized that I couldn’t get over the visceral, negative reaction to that term. Refinement fit what I was looking for better, and didn’t carry that psychological baggage.

The truth is, these last few months have been very difficult for me. And mostly for internal reasons. There have been many external stressors, but it has been the inner stress that has been the largest stumbling block. I want to find ways to overcome that stumbling block systematically. But I needed to give myself some grace, some room to work in.

And that’s where the “gentle” idea comes into play.

This year isn’t about big changes. It is about consistency, not intensity.

Intensity makes for a good story, but consistency makes progress.
-James Clear on The Knowledge Project podcast

This theme also slots nicely into my plans, both here in the newsletter as well as on the YouTube channel. I plan to choose one focused area of my life to refine over the course of that month. The plan is to establish or improve systems to make that one small aspect flow better.

My theme gives me the flexibility to adjust as the year moves on. I have plans, but no way I can fail. Since refinement is the target, I have not only given myself the leeway to adjust but have made it an integral part of the theme. Any time I find myself struggling, my theme encourages me to ask: how can I make this process more smooth?

But ambition isn’t broken. It is still what it has always been: the innate human desire for growth, a desire that is both universal and highly personal. People aren’t broken, either. They still crave creativity and connection. It’s the way we set goals that’s broken.
-Anne-Laure Le Cunff in Tiny Experiments

Don’t settle for failure.

Feed that desire for growth, but this year, do it in a way that lifts you, that encourages. Do it in a way you can’t fail.

Because we will all slip up on that road to growth, we shouldn’t make those slip-ups more onerous than they are. Build systems that support the growth, don’t set arbitrary goals that may not even be relevant as the year rolls on.

Even if you don’t call it a theme, I invite you to think about the direction you want to move this year. Then use that direction to accomplish tasks along the way.

Don’t let the tasks dictate the direction—that is your job.

And a theme helps you get there, zero judgment.