Iâve been thinking about 2026 and its âYear of the Horseâ energy.
Thereâs something unmistakable about it. Itâs no longer the frantic speed weâve learned to mistake for progress. Itâs something older, something better. A horse can stand perfectly still, ears alert, eyes soft, and then move with total conviction the moment the timing is right.
As I look at the Horse from this perspective, my mind keeps drifting toward the tarot.
The card I keep seeing is The Chariot.
When I sit with it, I feel alignment. It has that feeling of knowing what Iâm doing and why. This year, I want to move only because something in me has chosen a direction.
And hereâs the image that wonât leave me alone:
A cushioned chariot.
This is not a chariot made for war, or built to prove anything. Itâs a chariot designed to hold me. A vehicle that says: you can move forward and still stay with yourself.
I am not interested in âpowering throughâ another year.
I donât want success that costs me my sleep, my happiness, my appetite for life. I donât want to arrive somewhere impressive and realize I left my body behind on the road. I want momentum that feels perfectly mine. I want progress that doesnât require self-abandonment.
And I keep thinking: maybe thatâs what The Chariot is really asking for: control as self-respect, and the ability to steer without punishing the horse.
Weâve been taught to treat the horse (the wild part of me, my instinct) as something that needs to be tamed. But this horse no longer wants to be broken; it wants a rider who is steady and present.
This year doesnât feel like a year for pushing. It feels like a year for steering.
When the direction is true, the body stops fighting. When the path makes sense, you donât have to force momentum; it gathers on its own. And in that movement, something surprising happens: momentum becomes kindness.
Iâm done confusing ease with laziness.
Ease is not avoidance. Itâs not the absence of ambition. Ease is what happens when ambition stops fighting with your values. Itâs what happens when you choose fewer things, and do them with care. When you stop scattering yourself across ten almost-right directions and commit to the one that actually fits.
I have so much hope for the months ahead, and it doesnât depend on everything going perfectly. Itâs a grounded hope that comes from believing, finally, that the journey does not have to be harsh.
We can build a life where momentum and softness can exist in the same sentence.
So Iâll leave you with this question:
What would you choose to build in 2026 if you truly believed you were allowed to move forward with ease?
Maybe itâs time to take your seat and breathe.
Let the road meet you this time.
The dog days are over, oh The dog days are done Can you hear the horses? 'Cause here they come