From Curation To Refinement: Mapping the Word of the Year

Looking back, I can see the physical trail each word left behind—not just a label, but a job that required my hands.

Each one marked a kind of work season. Not abstract self-improvement, but real, physical, and emotional labor that left evidence behind.

The Foundation: Curate (2023–2024)

It started with the idea of my home as the museum of my life. These years were spent selecting and organizing—physically clearing out the accumulation of things that no longer spoke to who I am.

Curate was heavy lifting. It required decisions: what deserved to stay in the collection, and what was simply taking up space. Letting go wasn’t always easy, but it was necessary. Space had to be made before anything else could happen.

The Fuel: Nourish (2025)

Once the space was cleared, it needed to be filled with the right things.

Nourish became about the tactile work of tending—to body, mind, and spirit. This was the year of actual, countable words on the page. The year of sweating through physical health, rebuilding stamina, and allowing quiet back into my days.

Nourishment wasn’t indulgent. It was foundational. You can’t refine what hasn’t been fed.

An open notebook on a rustic wooden desk showing the word 'Refine' in elegant script, surrounded by a lit candle, a cup of tea, a magnifying glass, and a fountain pen.
“Moving past the gathering phase and into the deliberate work of the polish.”

The Polish: Refine (2026)

Now I’m stepping into the year of Refine.

If Curate was about gathering the right materials, and Nourish was about helping them grow, Refinement is the friction of the grain against the wood; it’s the fine dust that settles on the desk after a long day of sanding down a rough draft.

This year, I’m looking closely at my habits, my writing, and my daily rhythms and asking: How do I make this sharper? What needs to be smoothed? What obstacles need to be removed—not dramatically, but deliberately?

Refine isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing better with what’s already here.

The Future: Sustain & Flourish (2027–2028)

Growth isn’t a sprint; it’s a long-term project.

2027: Sustain.
This will be the year of the steady rhythm. It’s the work of oiling the tools so they don’t rust and checking the fence lines before the storm hits. I’ll be building the systems—the daily habits—that keep the work standing on its own, so I’m no longer reinventing the wheel every morning.

2028: Flourish.
This is the projected destination. After years of clearing, nourishing, and refining, I want to stop endlessly preparing and start seeing results—income, sustainability, and the quiet satisfaction of work that finally pays back some of what it has taken.

Not unchecked growth. Not burnout disguised as success.
Flourish is the heavy weight of a harvest basket—the literal fruit of four years of curating, nourishing, and refining.

“A season of flourishing, earned one day of work at a time.”

So this year, I’m not asking myself who I want to become.

I’m asking what work is ready for my hands.

What is your work this year?
What word are you putting your hands to in 2026?

Embracing a New Approach: Choosing a Word of the Year for Personal Growth

A week and a day into the new year.
How are you doing with your resolution(s)?

I used to have a hard time keeping my ‘New Year, New Me’ promises—until five years ago when I gave up resolutions and replaced them with a word of the year—a simple theme to guide my year.

For example:
Curate.
1 select, organize, and look after items in a collection or exhibit.
2 select, organize, and present online content, information, etc., typically using professional or expert knowledge. Verb.
(google.com Oxford Languages)

This became my word of the year last year. I started with my home’s collection of stuff. My thought was, “If my house is the museum of my life, what do I want it to say about how I spent my life?” That made it easier to get rid of things that I didn’t like and things that didn’t speak to who I am. (This will be an ongoing project as my interests and life events change.)

This year, I’m focusing on part 2: actual writing, not reading, talking, wishing, or guilting about it. I want to write actual countable words and grow a collection of work.

What is your word of the year?

Embracing Change: A Gardener’s Reflection on Another Growing Season

The sun is setting on another growing season.

I laid the garden to rest today. Pulling up plants while still producing is sad, but they have blessed me with an abundant crop this season.

Not a weed to be seen. This photo was taken after I pulled up the vegetable plants.

I considered leaving it like this for the winter, but I decided I had better rototill because I don’t know what kind of spring we’ll get next year. Not tilling last fall was a mistake. This year, we had a wet spring, and I planted a month late.

The garden before I pulled the plants.

Five years of gardening in this spot, and each year brings a different garden. If you garden, you understand.

Mid-August Musings: Holding onto the Summer Sun

It’s mid-August. The day is done. I’m taking a moment to admire the sun setting behind the cornfield. I wonder, “Where has the summer gone?”

School will start soon. The leaves will change colors, and they will fall. The holidays will come, and so will the snow.

I sat here on this mid-August evening and realized, “I’m not ready for summer to go.”