New Years, New Eras
Today is the Chinese New Year. The year of the Fire Horse.
In many cultures, we tend to treat the New Year as if it only happens once, on January 1. But the truth is, we get many new years and eras.
A birthday.
An anniversary.
A new job.
A new child.
A new puppy or kitten.
A move.
A moment of clarity you didn’t see coming.
Even at the start of a new tax year.
In fact, I’m working on taxes today. Which is partly why I decided to take a creative writing break. Because even taxes are a reflection of the past and an intention for the year ahead. What you built. What worked? What didn’t? What do you want to do differently?
These are all fresh starts. We just don’t always name them that way.
Lucky
I’ve been thinking about this more than usual because my new puppy arrived on January 4. That was my real New Year this year. His name is Lucky. I named him that as an intention for him and for me, for our next era together.
He brought a new personality into my home and a surprising infusion of joy. The silliness of jumping into the laundry basket for his clean toys. The way he makes me laugh when he proudly brings me treasures from outside, a stick, a wet leaf, the first daffodils starting to poke through the ground.
And if all goes well, he’ll be with me for 15 years or more. That’s not a small event. That’s a long chapter.
It’s also made me think more seriously about the next ten years of my own work. The big ideas I’m exploring next. The leaders and teams I want to support, especially as the world of work continues to shift.
AI is reshaping how we create and contribute, and new generations are bringing thoughtful questions about meaning, flexibility, sustainability, and growth. In many ways, this isn’t new. People have wanted balance and fulfillment for a long time, though it has often been hard fought, especially for women. What feels different now is that a deeper shift may be possible. One that allows us to design work and leadership in more sustainable and human ways.
The power of a new year isn’t the date. It’s the decision to see beyond what was, or even what is, and step into something just a little better and within reach.
This is why traditional resolutions often fall short. They ask for too much, too fast. They focus on the outcome instead of the foundation. Real change is quieter. It begins with small, steady steps, and over time, those steps shape a new way of living.
That’s why I’ve been drawn to the idea of tiny experiments. Dr. Anne-Laure Le Cunff writes about this beautifully in her book Tiny Experiments. Rather than overhauling your life, you test small shifts to see what works for you. You stay curious. You learn. You adjust.
So, here’s a simple practice.
Pick one tiny experiment for one week.
Not forever.
Just a week.
Ask yourself
What would make this take less time?
What would make it require less energy?
What would cost less money?
Or even better, what might create more time, energy, or money?
Then observe what happens.
Keep what works.
Tweak what doesn’t.
Let go of what isn’t right for you.
Over time, these small experiments compound. They build momentum and change how you see your options.
So, if today feels like a beginning, honor it.
If next month does, honor that too.
If a random Tuesday does, that counts.
The calendar doesn’t decide when your next era starts.
You do.
If you’re curious, here’s a video that explains the Tiny Experiment idea well.
Written by Dana Meyer, executive coach and consultant based in Hood River, Oregon, a Pacific Northwest community known for its wild beauty, technical innovation, and entrepreneurial spirit. This reflection is part of a growing library for those reimagining the world of work and leadership in more human and sustainable ways.