Listen, Explore, Delve
My 2026 Words of the Year, and Why I Chose Them
I can’t believe that we’re nearly halfway through 2026. Five months ago, I left the corporate world to create my own path as a freelance editor and writer.
After spending the first few months of the year recovering from burnout and coming to terms with the fear of being my own boss, I chose three words of the year to serve as guideposts to keep me grounded during this first year of my new journey.
Here are the words I chose and the reasons why.
LISTEN
For most of my working life, I’d been enraptured by the corporate world; it gave me a sense of pride and purpose to be part of what seemed (to me, at least) like such an important system with such important goals. I loved the value placed on efficiency and competence, the smooth-running processes, the sleek glamour of professional dress codes, the polite formalities, the dedication to the higher mission.
But that enchantment came with its own cost, teaching me to treat my self-care needs more like interruptions: I canceled gym dates because I was too tired, ordered fast food because it was too late to cook, didn’t take time to slow down and catch up with a good book I’d been dying to read because I was too caught up in work (even though I love reading maybe more than anything). Gardening? Art? No way. Where would I find the time?
Although these were little things, over time, the cumulative toll of these small choices built up until they manifested in real, noticeable ways: lack of energy, high blood pressure, weight gain, depression. I wasn’t intentionally disregarding my health, and I didn’t want to harm my body. I just have a (sometimes) bad habit of getting so carried away with what I’m doing that I forget to tend to other important things, like giving my body—especially my brain—time and space to recuperate.
The habit of overriding myself didn’t come only from work. One particular challenge I’ve faced, especially being raised as an Asian woman in a patriarchal culture, is the struggle of feeling invisible. Growing up, I was conditioned to believe that staying quiet and unseen was a prerequisite for being “good.” And so it was hard for me (and still is, on some days) to find my words and give voice to my thoughts.
I never realized how much these structures ignored my authentic identity—and, worse, how much they made me ignore or conceal parts of myself—to the point that my soul simply felt dead. I’ve decided this is something I need to pay much closer attention to, which is why I chose listen as one of my three words of the year: because I need to listen more carefully to what my own mind, body, and spirit are telling me.
Over the last several months, I’ve been contemplating how I want to live my life and have been working on ways to heal myself: exploring things I love doing, finding my people, strengthening my conviction to live my life more purposefully on my own terms, and untangling myself from the mental prison of believing everything revolves around work. I’m also being more intentional about asserting that I’m just as entitled as any other human being to exist, take up space, and be heard.
And so this year, in my first year outside the institutional and corporate systems that have shaped so much of my life, I’ve promised to honor myself by intentionally tuning in to my body and soul to really listen to what they want—and need—to tell me.
Which brings me to my second word of the year: explore.
EXPLORE
As I navigate my new path, I want to pay closer attention to what lights me up and pursue those things wholeheartedly with curiosity, not guilt. And this is why explore is my second word of the year.
This isn’t about chasing the temporary infatuations with whatever might seem trendy or “neat” (though those can certainly be fun!) or striving for the pride that comes from meeting some externally imposed work metric we’ve pushed so hard to reach. Instead, I want to take time to explore the little flashes that have piqued my interest but that I once decided I didn’t have capacity for—or thought foolish to pursue.
For example, I love wine. I love vicariously traveling to Mediterranean lands or maritime regions in my mind, as I imagine the journey each bottle took to arrive at my dining room table—from the lush vineyards where the grapes were cultivated to the painstaking, sweaty labor of the vintners who produced, aged, and bottled the wine. I love the complex, delicious flavors, the challenge of articulating and describing each sensuous pour, and (not gonna lie) the soothing relaxation of a nice buzz. But there’s a balance to respect so that enjoying it stays grounded in pleasure and presence rather than becoming a way to escape. So the exploration here is about appreciating how pleasure and imagination nourish my soul, and developing an awareness of the line where that joyful nourishment might slip into escape instead of care.
But the adventure is about more than just enjoying the magic of wine and spirits; it’s also about an intimate exploration of how I manage myself—the decisions I make, the interests I pursue, the relationships I form, the habits I (try to) follow—in the interest of nurturing myself more honestly.
DELVE
In my favorite game, World of Warcraft, I play an elemental shaman. I love the class—I’m drawn to the fierce elemental abilities that channel so naturally from my character’s fingers, giving her the spectacular superhero powers she wields as she demolishes evil throughout the lands of Azeroth.
I may not have the courage, emotional strength, and physical confidence of Baerkais, my fearless WoW Pandaren shaman, and I don’t know that I’m meant to pursue any real-world spiritual tradition connected to shamanism, especially not one I haven’t been invited into or properly taught. But the fantasy archetype of the shaman—the figure who listens to the secrets of the elements, leaves the familiar and ordinary behind to delve into the deepest realms of consciousness—is wildly, mind-blowingly exciting to me.
While I don’t think I can (or even want to?) delve into the mysteries of life that deeply—to the point of releasing my attachment to my own physical body—I do want to commit to slowing down and thinking more deliberately about my own actions, goals, and overall purpose, making room for whatever comes up as I explore. My analytical, scientifically oriented brain can make this a challenge, often wrestling with my emotional, curious, intuitive heart and telling it to hurry up and move on so all the “stuff” that I need to do gets done. All my heart wants, though, is to tap into flow, savor each moment, contemplate how the ordinary things in our lives hold so much magic and richness, and make beautiful, messy art that celebrates my creative soul.
I’ve often forsaken listening to this soul-level intuitive guidance bubbling from my heart for decisions that felt more sensible, that would further my professional goals or make more money. But what I’ve learned is that the plans that might look great on paper can actually clash with what my heart needs—and that those needs are vitally important to pay attention to. Because if you ignore your heart long enough, it will eventually give up trying to help you with the instructions you most need to follow.
And so my third word of the year, delve, serves as a reminder to spend more time going deeper into the heart of the ideas I consider and decisions I make, ensuring that my intuition and soul stay in closer alignment with everything I do—and with the people, stories, and creative work I hope to find along the way.
This was beautiful.
Yes, beautifully written, Erica! This sounds like a healthier way for everyone to live!