How I'm Planning 2026 (Without the New Year Pressure)

It's New Year's Eve. Everyone's posting about their ambitious 2026 goals. "This year I'm going to wake up at 5 AM, read 100 books, launch a side hustle, get abs, learn Spanish, and finally become a morning person."

And you know what? That energy is beautiful. It really is. There's something hopeful about a fresh start.

But I've learned that massive January resolutions often lead to February burnout. Not because we're lazy or undisciplined—but because we're trying to change everything at once while still living our actual lives.

I've been that person. Multiple times. The excited January version of me who makes elaborate plans, followed by the overwhelmed March version wondering what went wrong.

So this year? I'm trying something different.

The Problem With New Year Resolutions

Here's what typically happens: December 31st, you look at your year and feel like you didn't accomplish enough. (Even though you probably accomplished a ton—you just don't remember because you didn't track it.)

So naturally, we compensate. We create this elaborate plan for transformation. We're going to be a completely different person by next December.

The plan looks amazing on paper. But it usually requires us to suddenly have 10 extra hours per day, unlimited willpower, and zero unexpected life events. And that's just not realistic.

Reality Check: You Still Have The Same 24 Hours

The calendar changed. You didn't suddenly gain more time or energy. You still have the same job, same responsibilities, same baseline energy levels.

And here's the uncomfortable truth: you can realistically be productive for maybe 5-6 hours a day. Not 12. Not 8. Around 5-6 hours of focused work, max.

The rest of your day? That's meals, breaks, exercise, socializing, chores, and—this is important—the fun stuff that makes life worth living.

So when you're planning 2026, plan for the person you actually are, not the optimized robot you wish you were.

What I'm Doing Instead

Instead of massive resolutions, I'm asking different questions:

1. What Do I Actually Want to Remember About 2026?

Not accomplish. Remember.

When I think back on 2025, I don't remember all the tasks I completed. I remember the Saturday I spontaneously drove to the beach. The dinner where my friend told that ridiculous story. The afternoon I finally figured out that coding problem I'd been stuck on.

We remember feelings and moments more than accomplishments. So for 2026, I'm planning for memories, not just milestones.

This doesn't mean I'm not setting goals. It means I'm being intentional about why I want those goals. "Get promoted" is different from "I want to feel challenged and proud of my work." The second one gives you better daily direction.

2. What Small Thing Could I Do Every Day?

Forget massive transformation. What's one small thing that compounds?

For me, it's planning my day each morning. Takes maybe 5 minutes. I look at what needs to happen today, what I'm energized about, and what needs to recharge. That's it.

It sounds simple, but it's the difference between living intentionally and just reacting to whatever hits my inbox. And over a year? Those 5-minute mornings add up to a life I actually remember living.

Maybe for you it's:

• 10 minutes of stretching
• Writing 200 words
• One programming problem
• Checking in with a friend
• 30 minutes on your side project

Small. Realistic. Daily. That's how you actually change things.

And here's something I've learned: organize your day by energy, not just by time. You have different types of energy throughout the day—deep focus energy, quick-wins energy, recharge energy. When you plan with that in mind, everything feels more natural.

3. How Will I Track What I'm Actually Doing?

This is the part most people skip, and it's honestly why January feels so different from December.

Time feels like it's flying by because we don't pay attention to it. Days blur together. Weeks disappear. And suddenly it's June and you can't remember what you did in March.

So I'm tracking my days. Not obsessively—just noting what I worked on, what I did for fun, how I felt. The work stuff and the life stuff. Because when December 2026 rolls around, I want to look back at my year and actually see my life, not wonder where it went.

This isn't about productivity guilt or proving you did enough. It's about presence. It's about making your days feel real. When you can look back at your timeline and see your whole week, your whole month, your whole year—it changes how you experience time.

My Actual 2026 Plan

Here's what I'm committing to. It's not sexy, but it's realistic:

That's it. No massive goals. No extreme makeover. Just consistent, intentional days that add up to a year I'll actually remember.

What This Looks Like in Practice

Let's say my goal is "get better at coding." Cool. But what does that actually mean on a Tuesday?

Old approach: "I'm going to code for 4 hours every morning!" (Lasts 2 weeks.)

New approach: "I'll solve one coding problem every morning, 30-45 minutes. That's realistic alongside my actual job."

One problem per day = 365 problems per year. That's significant progress. And it's sustainable because it works with my life, not against it.

Same with "read more books." Forget "read 100 books this year." How about "read for 20 minutes before bed"? You'll end up reading 20-30 books naturally without the pressure.

The Part Nobody Talks About

Here's what I learned from 2025, and it kind of surprised me: the goals you hit aren't always the ones that matter most.

I had this whole plan to launch a side project. Didn't happen. But I did help a friend build theirs, and we had an amazing time doing it. I learned just as much, and I have a great memory attached to it.

The rigid plan would've counted that as a failure. But when I look back at 2025? That's one of my favorite parts of the year.

So yeah, have goals. Make plans. But leave room for the unexpected good stuff. The spontaneous Saturday adventure. The random deep conversation. The pivot that leads somewhere better than your original plan.

Those moments matter more than any to-do list.

Your Permission Slip for 2026

If you need to hear this: you don't need to overhaul your entire life on January 1st.

You don't need to wake up at 5 AM or implement a 7-step morning routine.

You don't need to be productive for 12 hours a day. (Nobody actually is—we all have around 5-6 hours of real focus in us.)

You can plan for 5-6 productive hours mixed with breaks, fun stuff, and actual life.

You can track what you're doing so you remember your year instead of watching it disappear.

You can adjust your plans when life happens (because it will).

And you can measure success by more than just tasks completed—by how you felt, what you learned, who you connected with, what you enjoyed.

2026 doesn't need to be perfect. It just needs to be real.

One Last Thing

If you're reading this on December 31st, feeling that familiar pressure to have it all figured out by midnight—you don't.

Take a breath. Think about what you actually want from the next year. Not what you should want. What you actually want.

Then pick one small, sustainable thing to start with. Just one. You can always add more later.

And if you want to look back at 2026 and actually see where your time went? Track it. Plan your days. Review your weeks. It makes time feel real instead of feeling like it's evaporating.

Here's to a year that's memorable, sustainable, and actually yours.

Happy New Year. Let's make 2026 count—realistically.