What’s Your Word? Find Your North Star Word to Shape 2026.

Each year, I choose a word as a North Star. Not a resolution. Not a checklist. Just a simple guardrail for how I want to live and show up. Something I can come back to when things feel hard or overwhelming.

Last year, my word was gratitude. I chose it knowing—feeling—that 2025 was going to ask a lot of us. And it did. There was so much in the world that felt heavy, unjust, and deeply concerning. Gratitude wasn’t about pretending things were fine. It was about learning how to stand in that concern and still notice what was steady, what was good, what was worth holding and celebrating.

I often thought of the teachings of Thích Nhất Hạnh, who talks about finding joy in the present moment—especially in the ordinary ones we tend to dislike - or even resent. Washing dishes. Folding laundry. The daily stuff. He reminds us that our experience is shaped by the stories we tell ourselves. So instead of rushing through dishes with annoyance, what if we noticed the warm water on our hands? The gift that we have hot water. That there was a meal to clean up after. That there are people we love enough to eat with. That our bodies are being nourished. That a quiet moment exists right there in the ordinary and daily. That practice—small, consistent reframes—helped me again and again in 2025 pause, breathe, and find gratitude when it didn’t come naturally.

But alongside gratitude, I noticed something else. I often felt powerless. Like the problems were so big, so structural, so entrenched—what could one person really do?

That’s where my word for 2026 come in.

For 2026, I’m choosing small-acts. Yes, I cheated and hyphenated it.

Because what I learned last year is that while I may not be able to fix everything, I can do something. And every time I did a small act, I felt my sense of power come back—sometimes briefly, sometimes more deeply. And over time, those moments added up to make me feel less impotent and more in control in a precarious, chaotic, ever-changing time.

We did a canned food drive when SNAP benefits were frozen. We stretched and gave more to a food bank. We protested. We talked with unhoused neighbors and bought meals. We made cards and cookies for a senior center. We cooked for people who were sick. None of these things were headline-making. None of them “solved” the problem. But every single time, I felt more grounded. More human. More like myself.

Maybe that’s selfish. Maybe it’s not purely altruistic. And I’m okay with that. It helped me reclaim my sense of agency—and that matters to how I show up in the world. This is especially important for leaders who are holding space for others and trying motivate and inspire.

Naming small-acts as my word for 2026 feels like a way to keep asking better daily questions:

What small act can I do today?

What can I model for my son?

Where can I choose kindness, contribution, resistance, or optimism—right here, right now?

History reminds us that change has never started with everyone all at once. It starts with a few people, doing what they can, where they are. When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, it wasn’t a mass movement yet—but it sparked the Montgomery Bus Boycott, sustained by ordinary people who chose to walk, carpool, and persist for over a year. When four college students sat down at a segregated lunch counter in Greensboro, their quiet act helped ignite sit-ins across the South. 

Margaret Mead said it best: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” When small acts ripple through communities—when individuals act, and others join, and those actions begin to stack—we shift what’s possible. Our collective community, working together in small, imperfect, human ways, really can change things.

So, what word might you choose as your North Star word for 2026? Share it!