John R. Miles

You arrive as you are, lighter, clearer, less defended.

That's why letting go isn't loss.

It's recovery.

You recover energy that's been tied up in vigilance.

You recover attention that's been trapped in old loops.

And you recover parts of yourself that went quiet, not because they were gone, but because there was no room for them to speak.

That's the beauty of what becomes possible.

Not a new personality, not a perfect year, but a life with more room in it.

Room for joy to land without apology.

Room for rest without justification.

Room for connection without armor.

And on a night like this, when the year is still soft, when the lights are low, when nothing is demanding immediate answers, that room matters.

Because what we release tonight shapes what we can enter tomorrow.

So the question isn't whether letting go will change your life.

It will.

The question is how gently you're willing to allow that change to happen.

And that's where we'll turn next.

Here's where we usually go wrong.

When we realize something needs to end, we tend to turn on ourselves.

We make ultimatums.