2026: Let it be a year of continuity, not yet another year of change

With the start of every new year, there is an almost collective, unspoken mandate: to erase the “old” and start over. To leave behind what we didn’t like, what we didn’t manage to achieve, what weighed us down, and to welcome the new year as a blank page. A prompt that pushes us toward the widely known idea of restarting —a restart, that is a fresh beginning in our lives.

However, what does that really mean? Can we truly start over again? Or is the idea of a “new self” being reborn every New Year nothing more than a comforting illusion, offering temporary relief?

To some extent, the need for change, growth, or improvement carries a positive aspect. It is human to want to move forward, to learn, to evolve. Erasing the past, however — from habits and daily practices to emotions, experiences, and inner beliefs — is neither easy nor realistic. And one thing is for sure: it certainly does not happen simply because the calendar year changes.

Restart: The illusion of erasure and reboot

The main idea behind every restart is to reject the past. To believe, even subconsciously, that over the years we did not do things as well as we “should” or “could” have, that we did not handle situations properly enough. It pushes us to create a new narrative for ourselves — more disciplined, more productive, more impressive, or more aligned with social expectations. In practice, however, this narrative often turns into pressure or anxiety. A subtle sense of failure appears usually as early as the first weeks of the new year. You see, life does not allow such erasures. Our experiences are not canceled. Our relationships, choices, joys, and losses remain. We cannot delete them, no matter how much we wish we could.

If we look around us — or at ourselves — we will see how many of us get trapped in a repetitive, vicious cycle: excitement, new promises, ambitious plans, lists of goals. And shortly after, fatigue, disappointment, guilt, and resignation take the lead. The problem lies not to the effort itself. The main problem is the unrealistic expectation that everything will change all at once. The truth, however, is simple and often disappointing: the change of the year, by itself, changes absolutely nothing.

The New Year as continuity, not as a starting line

As appealing as theories of a victorious restart and self-improvement may sound, life does not operate with magic buttons. We cannot undo what has happened, forget failures, erase weaknesses, or lie to ourselves about who we truly are, thus becoming someone else. There is no restart. Just continuity. And this continuity — as difficult, exhausting, or discouraging as it may sometimes feel — is the only real starting point we have. We move forward with all those things that we have learned or endured, with what has hurt us, and with what has kept us standing.

In a world that glorifies constant productivity, goal-setting, and relentless self-improvement, acknowledging continuity feels almost radical. Pause — not as inactivity, but as a conscious choice — becomes essential. A pause to recognize that we are not starting from zero, but from exactly where we are. Not to decide what must change, but to clearly see what already exists. What we can handle. What exhausts us. What fulfills us. What supports us, and what weighs us down.

The new year can function as a symbol. As a point of reference, not as an obligation. We don’t need to rush. We don’t need to transform ourselves. We don’t need to become something else. The secret is not found in haste, nor in imposed goals. It lies in remaining true to ourselves and present in our own lives. Without suffocating timelines, without external comparisons, without the feeling that we are falling behind.

Happy New Year!