When the Question Becomes a Companion
As the year winds down, I always feel that subtle tug to take stock. Not in a New Year’s resolution way (I’ve never been wired for that), but in the “What did this year ask of me? And what do I want to carry into the next one?” kind of way.
This year, I chose a word instead of a resolution - agency. No goals. No metrics. Just a word I held quietly.
And strangely, it shaped everything. Not because I forced it, but because it became a steady companion. It helped me choose myself in moments when it would’ve been easier to fold. It reminded me that I get to decide what’s mine to tend and what’s not mine to carry. It became less of a theme and more of a backbone.
So when I heard Krista Tippett on the TED Radio Hour talk about setting a question to guide your year, something clicked. A word anchors. A question expands. It leaves room for mystery, for becoming, for the parts of ourselves that don’t blossom on demand.
She spoke about how much energy we spend chasing answers - as if clarity is something we can force with enough overthinking. That landed. I can catastrophize with Olympic form. I can rehearse a hundred imaginary outcomes before I’ve even finished my tea. It’s exhausting… and familiar.
But answers aren’t what grow us. The asking is.
So instead of waiting for January, I’m beginning now… in this softer season when the pace slows and the world feels a little more honest.
My guiding question for the months ahead is: Who am I becoming as I move through this?
It’s not a question I’m trying to solve. It’s a question I’m trying to live.
It invites me to stay in relationship with myself rather than in debate with my fears. It shifts the focus from performance to presence. And honestly? It feels like a relief. There’s no ideal version of me waiting at the finish line. Just the version that’s emerging in real time as I learn, stumble, repair, and begin again.
To support it, I’ve given myself a small daily ritual… nothing dramatic, nothing that requires perfect morning light or a serene corner of my home. It starts with a single breath, three sensory details, and the reminder: I’m here. Not in the future I’m bracing for. Here.
Then I ask a second question that keeps me steady: How can I stay with myself as I move through today?
Some days the answer will be clear. Some days it’s quiet. Either way, it teaches me how to stay present with my own humanity.
Only then do I return to the guiding question - not for an answer, but for perspective. I notice who I’m becoming. I notice where tenderness is needed. I notice where courage might be stirring.
And then I pick one tiny intention. A posture, not a task. Something that helps me walk through the day as the person I’m slowly growing into.
Becoming is incremental. It’s slow. It’s honest.
And it rarely fits the shape of a resolution.
If you want your own guiding question
You don’t need a word for the year or a five-step ritual (though you’re welcome to use mine if it makes sense to you). What you do need is a question that feels like an invitation, not a demand. Something that softens you a little. Something that makes you curious about yourself.
A few ways to find yours:
Look for a question that returns to you unprompted. The one that tugs at your sleeve when you’re washing dishes or driving or trying to sleep.
Choose something open, unfinished, slightly tender. A guiding question shouldn’t box you in. It should make room.
Don’t pick the clever question. Pick the true one. The one you feel in your chest, not the one that would look good on a vision board.
Here are a few possibilities if you need a spark:
What wants my attention right now?
What would feel gentler?
What am I learning to trust in myself?
What do I need to practice being in the world?
How can I move through this without abandoning myself?
Your question doesn’t need to last a full year. It just needs to last long enough to teach you something.
Beginning before the beginning
I’m not waiting for January 1. Some things are too important to outsource to a calendar. Becoming begins the moment you start paying attention… the moment you ask a question that shifts something inside you.
So I’m asking mine now. And I’m letting it shape me, slowly, quietly, honestly… one day at a time.
If you choose a guiding question for yourself, let it meet you where you are, not where you think you “should” be. What question is inviting you into who you’re becoming?
