This year, I will not be making new year resolutions.
I used to live in Rio de Janeiro (Brazil), where the end of the year was marked by an incredible celebration on Copacabana beach. On the 31 December, nearly two million people – dressed in white, and carrying white flowers – would walk peacefully from all corners of the vast city to the shore. For one evening, social and racial differences dissolved and blurred into a single, slow procession towards the sea. As soon as the clock struck midnight and the fireworks began, everyone would jump seven waves and gently offer the white flowers they carried to Yemanja, the goddess of the sea. No one thought about resolutions for tackling the next year head on – instead, one focused solely on introspection, a moment dedicated to “gratidão” or gratitude for the good things that happened in the year slipping by.”
Choosing rest over resolutions
There is a beauty in rituals, and there is a special power in those that are visibly shared with a large community. Strangers walk together in easy camaraderie and feel part of something larger than themselves.
But for me, this ritual was special in that instead of focusing on resolutions and things to come, it centred on the present – on being, instead of on doing. It only asked that one be present, letting the spirit feel lighter as the clock wound down. One washed away one’s burdens in the ocean, entrusting them to the sea goddess’s higher power, and allowed the next year to begin in stillness and rest.
That, perhaps, is why the power of this ritual has stayed with me. Instead of focusing on what lay ahead, it anchored me in the moment. It allowed me to feel release. The new year arrived quietly the next day, I felt, softened by the perspective of rest rather than charged with activity and expectation.
Defying natural rhythms
Across the living world, winter is a time for hibernation. Growth pauses so that life can return regenerated in Spring. Humans, instead, put themselves out of the circle of living things, defying this rhythm. We fill December with not only deadlines, targets, sales, but also with celebrations that demand cheerfulness on command.
Exhausted, we continue this unhealthy track, demanding transformation from ourselves on the first day of January. When our determination to follow our resolutions swiftly crumbles, we start the year feeling the sting of failure.
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Drawing wisdom from ancient rituals
Perhaps this year it is time for us humans to remember ancient winter rituals around the world as quiet celebrations of communal warmth and pause. What if, instead of racing towards a newer, faster version of ourselves, we allowed the year to end gently? What if we respected the seasonal logic that farmers know so well: soil must rest – regain its health – before it can nourish and produce?
Instead of viewing time as a line constantly moving forward, what if we saw it as cyclical – moving through phases of growth and decay, growth and rest? The winter months could then be a time of inward focus, for reflection, for letting mind and body grow quiet for a moment, before growth can resume.
Entering the New Year in step with the living world
It does not matter how one marks the turning of the year. Some gather around bonfires or in city squares to watch fireworks. Others count down at parties. Some choose to sleep through it entirely. What matters is not the event, but the permission we grant ourselves to pause after the clock strikes midnight.
Before rushing into resolutions, which we know will not last, we might instead allow ourselves time to process what the past year has demanded of us – what we endured, what we absorbed, what we gave. From this stillness, true intentions may emerge organically, grounded and rooted in restoration, allowing real regeneration.
This year, I will stop myself from rushing into making empty resolutions. I will allow myself to rest. And I will trust that, like the earth, what follows will be healthier for it.
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