‘Tis the season.
Many of us have celebrated the holidays in various ways as befits our family, friends, and traditions. But the one nearly universal occasion celebrated this time of year is upon us: New Year’s Eve.
New beginnings.
A formal threshold. An annual opportunity for change and growth.
Over the years, I have noticed more people eschewing the tradition of New Year’s resolutions. This makes sense to me.
Every January, we tell ourselves some version of the same story: This is the year I finally get it together. We resolve to eat better, work harder, stress less, be more disciplined, more focused, more everything. For a brief moment, it can feel hopeful. Like a fresh start.
And then life happens.
By February, many resolutions have already fallen apart. The gym visits taper off. The strict routines become unsustainable. What’s left behind is often not motivation, but guilt. We assume we failed because we didn’t try hard enough.
Who wants this feeling year after year?
However, by turning our backs on this tradition, are we missing an important opportunity for a different approach?
Regarding traditional resolutions, research suggests something else may be going on. The problem may not be us. It may be the way we’re trying to change.
Traditional New Year’s resolutions tend to be rigid and outcome-focused. They rely heavily on willpower and assume our future selves will somehow have more energy, time, and self-control than our present ones. Decades of research on self-regulation tell us that willpower is limited, especially under stress (Baumeister et al., 1998). In other words, resolutions are most likely to fail precisely when life gets hard, which is usually when we want them most.
There’s another issue, too. Resolutions are often framed in all-or-nothing terms. We either stick to them, or we don’t. Miss a few days, break a rule, or slip into an old habit, and it can feel like the whole effort is ruined. This kind of binary thinking fuels shame and disengagement, emotions that actually make change harder, not easier (Tangney et al., 2007).
So, what’s the alternative?
Instead of resolutions, consider creative intentions.
What Are Creative Intentions?
Creative intentions shift the focus away from rigid outcomes and toward how we want to relate to our lives. Rather than asking, “What should I fix about myself?” they ask, “How do I want to show up?”
A creative intention might sound like:
- “I want to approach challenges with curiosity instead of self-criticism.”
- “This year, I want to practice being gentler with myself.”
- “I want to explore what balance actually looks like in my real life—not an ideal one.”
Notice the difference. These intentions aren’t checklists. They don’t depend on perfect follow-through. They invite reflection, experimentation, and adjustment over time.
The word creative matters here. Not because we need to be artistic, but because creativity involves flexibility, openness, and imagination. Creativity allows change to be a process rather than a test.
Why Intentions Work Better Than Resolutions
From a psychological perspective, creative intentions align closely with what we know about sustainable change:
- Self-determination theory shows that people are more likely to maintain behaviors when they feel autonomous and internally motivated, when change reflects personal values rather than external pressure (Deci & Ryan, 2000). Creative intentions are self-chosen and values-based, not driven by “shoulds.”
- Acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT) emphasizes values-guided action over symptom control. Research consistently shows that psychological flexibility, the ability to adapt while staying connected to what matters, is strongly associated with well-being (Hayes et al., 2012). Creative intentions support this flexibility by allowing room for discomfort, setbacks, and learning.
- A growth mindset softens our relationship with failure and has been linked to greater resilience and persistence (Dweck, 2006). By switching our focus to effort rather than a fixed goal, we’re more likely to ask, “What did I learn?” instead of “Why can’t I stick to this?”
Creativity Essential Reads
The Role of Creativity in Change
Creativity does something resolutions rarely do: It makes change feel human.
Research on expressive writing and narrative practices shows that reflecting creatively, through writing, visual mapping, or storytelling, can reduce distress and increase insight, particularly when people focus on meaning rather than performance (Pennebaker & Chung, 2011).
Creativity also engages emotion, imagination, and identity, all of which are key drivers of long-term motivation. We are far more likely to return to practices that feel meaningful than those that feel punitive.
For example, someone with an intention to “live more intentionally” might notice moments during the week that feel aligned, or misaligned, and reflect on why. Someone focused on “rest” might experiment gently, learning through trial and error rather than forcing themselves into a rigid routine.
This kind of approach turns change into a relationship, not a rulebook.
From Fixing Ourselves to Practicing Being Human
One of the most important shifts creative intentions offers is a move away from self-fixing. Resolutions often imply that something is wrong with us and needs to be corrected. Creative intentions start from a different assumption: Growth is ongoing, uneven, and shaped by context.
That distinction matters. Research on self-compassion shows that people who respond to setbacks with kindness rather than judgment are more resilient and more motivated to keep going (Neff, 2003). Creative intentions naturally support this stance by emphasizing practice over perfection.
Instead of quitting after a misstep, we’re invited to stay curious.
A Different Way to Begin the Year
Creative intentions don’t promise dramatic transformation by sheer force of will. What they offer instead is something quieter and more sustainable: a way to stay engaged with growth, even when life is messy.
In a culture that often equates progress with productivity and self-worth with achievement, choosing creative intentions can feel almost radical. It’s a decision to value curiosity over control and meaning over metrics.
As the new year begins, perhaps the most helpful question isn’t, “What should I change?” but rather, “How do I want to show up—again and again, imperfectly, honestly?”
That kind of intention just might last longer than January.
