Hi Robin. Thanks for your tender welcome into 2026. So much tending in this piece that resonates for me. I will sit with it and come back. One note at a glance: "tension" grows from the same Latin root, "tendere". It refers to a stretched state (literally or figuratively), a strained condition that comes from being or feeling stretched. Our default interpretation is negative--I am (or things are) so tense. As writers, we know tension is a necessary plot device to hold readers, to address shifts in the narrative, for characters to respond, to change and, with luck, to grow. And so, also, for us in our lives.
Connecting here to your point that we do not shy away from what is happening in the world, from the tensions in this *dream we call life*, create a valve for us to respond, to change, and with luck to grow.
And maybe that is part of our purpose here: to tend, to stretch, to hold the tensions and evolve past them. And from that we make meaning.
Robin, thank you for your thoughtful and very generous response—as usual. Yes, “tension” is part of it. Living in the stretch. I think in following our path, we’re often called to go beyond that proverbial comfort zone. Sometimes in being true to ourselves, we (introverts, anyway) have to move into the discomfort of being seen, having our work seen, sharing our views that not everyone will agree with, walking our protest marches, and so on. But tending also has softness and love sown in. It’s the gentler side of tendere, but no less effecting. Curiously, the word “tender” has a different root entirely. Thank you for restacking my post. I'm grateful to you. ✨
Yes--and holding all that in balance can be both nurturing and stressful at once. As I work through revising the final adventure in my Edge of Yesterday series, I am holding tensions on the page and in my body.
Maybe tension is just where I am living at the moment. As I read through my rewrites for the finale, I seem to be playing a game of "Choose Your Own Adventure". If I add this twist here on page 261, it shifts this scene on page 275. Which then bleeds into the wrap up for the series that begins with a chapter titled, CHOICES: A NEW WAY BACK on page 280 in the manuscript. Which chapter is subtitled with this epigraph: “Can’t nothing make your life work if you ain’t the architect.” ~Terry McMillan, Disappearing Acts.
So already, it appears my word for 2026 is TENSION, with all that implies!
Trying to hold that tenderly, whatever its root. Thank you for prompting me to tune into it.
I love your line about how our connections here matter!
And I have a similar attitude towards the shamanic healer that told me I had an inter dimensional being living in my shoulder. I mean … okay. But I swear when she got rid of it the pain I’d experienced for 15 years went away!
That’s a wonderful story about your shoulder, Oona. I remember years ago, when I was studying Buddhism with a Zen master in Toronto, he talked about not taking his word for things, but learning through application, practice, and experience. Shamanic practice is also an experiential journey. But of course, there’s much study involved, too. I’m glad the line you mentioned about our connections here resonates. I almost chose “connection” for my word, but “tending” feels more active. Happy New Year!
Oh Robin, your beautiful, heartfelt reflections moved through me like a tide ... tender, startling, and full of the deep, quiet wisdom that only 'lived experience' can shape. The way you weave memory, grief, sovereignty, and the long work of 'tending' feels both intimate and universal, a reminder of how our lives keep unfolding in layers we don’t always see coming.
I’m so very sorry for the ache that resurfaced with the news of your old friend "Paul", and grateful for the grace with which you hold it. Your word choice "Tending" for 2026 feels like a blessing in itself ... a gentle, steady invitation to stay present to what matters, even in a world that feels so fragile.
Love and solidarity as you keep tending your dream and helping the rest of us remember our own. In pure synchronicity, of course ... because it happens so often here, I'm reminded on my return ... I'm writing a new poem today all about 'tending'. Love and hope. 🙏💖🕯️
How wonderful that you’re writing a poem on tending today, Deborah. I can imagine how grateful those you’ve worked with over the years must be for you. A witness and guide. One who tends others seeking a safe space in which to see and be seen. To give voice and be heard. You are also a beautiful poet, and I love that you’ll be devoting more of your energies to writing. We are multi-passionate, multidimensional beings. It makes perfect sense. Thank you for your kind words about “Paul.” I appreciate your wisdom and compassion.
As always, your words will stay with me over the next several days, Robin.
Your WOTY is beautiful and soulful 💗
One of the prompts you included asked something about playfulness, and this resonates with me so fully right now. It's something I lost for a very long time. I am "working"
Maria, thank you for taking time to read this and write to me. What a lovely message. I know how busy you've been. Tending your need to play sounds wonderful and creative. I love it.
Robin, this found me on a morning shaped by news of a sudden passing—someone I once knew well, gone in his sleep, my age. Your words, woven with care and soulfulness, touched something deep. I felt that same breath-catching pause you describe—grief meeting memory, the quiet ache of time folding in on itself.
This reflection is such a generous offering: on dreaming, tending, remembering, and choosing presence again and again. I’m grateful to have come across your writing today, just when I needed this kind of witness. Thank you for reminding me that honoring our own soul’s path is also a form of love—for others, for the world, for what endures beyond us.
Sunshine, thank you. I’m so glad this work reached you at the right time. My condolences on your friend’s passing. I’m moved by your response, and grateful for our connection.
Thank you for this poignant and evocative newsletter; it stirred up so many things for me. Your connection and work with Celtic shamanism fascinates me as someone who has long held an affinity for all things Celtic. As usual, I have difficulty coming up with one word for the year. I will have to let that brew. This is a pre-launch year for me so there is much to do with getting a book into the world. I know I will have to stay grounded while doing that, so maybe that is my word. Grounded. Happy New Year Robin! p.s. The song Auld Lang Syne gave me goosebumps.
Aww, Doreen. I'm glad this piece stirred you. Thank you for reading it and writing such a heartfelt response. I'm grateful for you. And I love that you feel a long held connection with all things Celtic. You'd likely enjoy Frank MacKeown's books. As for your own book-to-be, congratulations again on signing with a publisher. That's so wonderful! You know I'm going to want my copy. For me, each launch (including the pre-launch period) has been different, but always busy. Just part of the work. "Grounded" may be your word for 2026. Live with it a while and see. Only you will know. Happy New Year, Doreen!
Thank you, Robin, for so much encouragement and support. I look forward to the release of your book as well! I've sat with the word "grounded" for over a month now, and I think that is it. I will check out Frank MacKeown. Happy Imbolc!
You've got it. Thanks, Doreen. When you're checking out the Celtic material, be sure to look for Frank "MacEowen." (Accidentally, in the email, I spelled his name with a "K" which isn't there. 😉)
Hello Robin, I enjoyed reading this calming, stirring and quite magical post. I felt your shock when you wrote about the death of Paul; love stories, no matter how fleeting, find nesting places in our hearts.
This year I wish to play more, to find more playfulness in my writing, and to enjoy the process of writing my third novel, and my second poetry book. I also look forward to being involved in the publishing process of my book Just Like A Movie, with Empress Editions, something I'm extremely excited about. I'm 64, and although my health took a downturn a few years ago, my creativity has bloomed. So I intend to enjoy the process, and make the most of every day.
Francesca, welcome. Thank you for reading my post, and I'm so glad you're here. I appreciate your care in responding. What you wrote about love stories finding nesting places in our hearts goes deep. How fantastic that you have a third novel and second poetry book in process, and a new work coming into form with an established press. Congratulations! Creativity is ageless. I wish you well in finding playfulness in your writing this year. Joy is so essential in our work and life.
I read this with tears. So tender, so wise. I love that you're deeply involved in Celtic Shamanic practices. I do believe in curses and that they can be removed. I live with this old ache that flares up and continues to teach me.
I love your honoring of your current dear friend, as well as your early friendship.
I clicked down the song, wow. Thank you for sharing your tenderness with us.
I could say much more about tending. I am a tender...
Yes, you certainly are. Thank you, Prajna. In the work you do and the messages you share, you embody what it is to rise to the challenges of tending hope. I'm grateful for your presence in my life, my friend. Thank you for your wise heart. Much love to you. R
This was beautiful, Robin. Thank you. Indeed... we do not know how long we're here. Let's make sure to live every precious minute we have on this earth in gratitude for just being alive.
What a beautiful and carefully chosen word for 2026, Robin… Tendere… I adore the Latin version as it rolls off the tongue into a symphony of its own doing in the being… Exquisite 👌🏼💞 xx
Leanda, I'm glad you find music in the word. How lovely. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts. This weekend I'll sit with your beautiful ocean post. 💙✨
Hi Robin. Thanks for your tender welcome into 2026. So much tending in this piece that resonates for me. I will sit with it and come back. One note at a glance: "tension" grows from the same Latin root, "tendere". It refers to a stretched state (literally or figuratively), a strained condition that comes from being or feeling stretched. Our default interpretation is negative--I am (or things are) so tense. As writers, we know tension is a necessary plot device to hold readers, to address shifts in the narrative, for characters to respond, to change and, with luck, to grow. And so, also, for us in our lives.
Connecting here to your point that we do not shy away from what is happening in the world, from the tensions in this *dream we call life*, create a valve for us to respond, to change, and with luck to grow.
And maybe that is part of our purpose here: to tend, to stretch, to hold the tensions and evolve past them. And from that we make meaning.
Words to ponder in 2026. And to tend. Thank you!
Robin, thank you for your thoughtful and very generous response—as usual. Yes, “tension” is part of it. Living in the stretch. I think in following our path, we’re often called to go beyond that proverbial comfort zone. Sometimes in being true to ourselves, we (introverts, anyway) have to move into the discomfort of being seen, having our work seen, sharing our views that not everyone will agree with, walking our protest marches, and so on. But tending also has softness and love sown in. It’s the gentler side of tendere, but no less effecting. Curiously, the word “tender” has a different root entirely. Thank you for restacking my post. I'm grateful to you. ✨
Yes--and holding all that in balance can be both nurturing and stressful at once. As I work through revising the final adventure in my Edge of Yesterday series, I am holding tensions on the page and in my body.
Maybe tension is just where I am living at the moment. As I read through my rewrites for the finale, I seem to be playing a game of "Choose Your Own Adventure". If I add this twist here on page 261, it shifts this scene on page 275. Which then bleeds into the wrap up for the series that begins with a chapter titled, CHOICES: A NEW WAY BACK on page 280 in the manuscript. Which chapter is subtitled with this epigraph: “Can’t nothing make your life work if you ain’t the architect.” ~Terry McMillan, Disappearing Acts.
So already, it appears my word for 2026 is TENSION, with all that implies!
Trying to hold that tenderly, whatever its root. Thank you for prompting me to tune into it.
❤️
I love your line about how our connections here matter!
And I have a similar attitude towards the shamanic healer that told me I had an inter dimensional being living in my shoulder. I mean … okay. But I swear when she got rid of it the pain I’d experienced for 15 years went away!
That’s a wonderful story about your shoulder, Oona. I remember years ago, when I was studying Buddhism with a Zen master in Toronto, he talked about not taking his word for things, but learning through application, practice, and experience. Shamanic practice is also an experiential journey. But of course, there’s much study involved, too. I’m glad the line you mentioned about our connections here resonates. I almost chose “connection” for my word, but “tending” feels more active. Happy New Year!
Oh Robin, your beautiful, heartfelt reflections moved through me like a tide ... tender, startling, and full of the deep, quiet wisdom that only 'lived experience' can shape. The way you weave memory, grief, sovereignty, and the long work of 'tending' feels both intimate and universal, a reminder of how our lives keep unfolding in layers we don’t always see coming.
I’m so very sorry for the ache that resurfaced with the news of your old friend "Paul", and grateful for the grace with which you hold it. Your word choice "Tending" for 2026 feels like a blessing in itself ... a gentle, steady invitation to stay present to what matters, even in a world that feels so fragile.
Love and solidarity as you keep tending your dream and helping the rest of us remember our own. In pure synchronicity, of course ... because it happens so often here, I'm reminded on my return ... I'm writing a new poem today all about 'tending'. Love and hope. 🙏💖🕯️
How wonderful that you’re writing a poem on tending today, Deborah. I can imagine how grateful those you’ve worked with over the years must be for you. A witness and guide. One who tends others seeking a safe space in which to see and be seen. To give voice and be heard. You are also a beautiful poet, and I love that you’ll be devoting more of your energies to writing. We are multi-passionate, multidimensional beings. It makes perfect sense. Thank you for your kind words about “Paul.” I appreciate your wisdom and compassion.
As always, your words will stay with me over the next several days, Robin.
Your WOTY is beautiful and soulful 💗
One of the prompts you included asked something about playfulness, and this resonates with me so fully right now. It's something I lost for a very long time. I am "working"
😆 on tending to my need for play.
Maria, thank you for taking time to read this and write to me. What a lovely message. I know how busy you've been. Tending your need to play sounds wonderful and creative. I love it.
Thank you, Robin. So much to dig into here!
Charlene, thanks for reading.
Robin, this found me on a morning shaped by news of a sudden passing—someone I once knew well, gone in his sleep, my age. Your words, woven with care and soulfulness, touched something deep. I felt that same breath-catching pause you describe—grief meeting memory, the quiet ache of time folding in on itself.
This reflection is such a generous offering: on dreaming, tending, remembering, and choosing presence again and again. I’m grateful to have come across your writing today, just when I needed this kind of witness. Thank you for reminding me that honoring our own soul’s path is also a form of love—for others, for the world, for what endures beyond us.
Sunshine, thank you. I’m so glad this work reached you at the right time. My condolences on your friend’s passing. I’m moved by your response, and grateful for our connection.
Thank you for this poignant and evocative newsletter; it stirred up so many things for me. Your connection and work with Celtic shamanism fascinates me as someone who has long held an affinity for all things Celtic. As usual, I have difficulty coming up with one word for the year. I will have to let that brew. This is a pre-launch year for me so there is much to do with getting a book into the world. I know I will have to stay grounded while doing that, so maybe that is my word. Grounded. Happy New Year Robin! p.s. The song Auld Lang Syne gave me goosebumps.
Aww, Doreen. I'm glad this piece stirred you. Thank you for reading it and writing such a heartfelt response. I'm grateful for you. And I love that you feel a long held connection with all things Celtic. You'd likely enjoy Frank MacKeown's books. As for your own book-to-be, congratulations again on signing with a publisher. That's so wonderful! You know I'm going to want my copy. For me, each launch (including the pre-launch period) has been different, but always busy. Just part of the work. "Grounded" may be your word for 2026. Live with it a while and see. Only you will know. Happy New Year, Doreen!
Thank you, Robin, for so much encouragement and support. I look forward to the release of your book as well! I've sat with the word "grounded" for over a month now, and I think that is it. I will check out Frank MacKeown. Happy Imbolc!
You've got it. Thanks, Doreen. When you're checking out the Celtic material, be sure to look for Frank "MacEowen." (Accidentally, in the email, I spelled his name with a "K" which isn't there. 😉)
Hello Robin, I enjoyed reading this calming, stirring and quite magical post. I felt your shock when you wrote about the death of Paul; love stories, no matter how fleeting, find nesting places in our hearts.
This year I wish to play more, to find more playfulness in my writing, and to enjoy the process of writing my third novel, and my second poetry book. I also look forward to being involved in the publishing process of my book Just Like A Movie, with Empress Editions, something I'm extremely excited about. I'm 64, and although my health took a downturn a few years ago, my creativity has bloomed. So I intend to enjoy the process, and make the most of every day.
With love,
Francesca xx
Francesca, welcome. Thank you for reading my post, and I'm so glad you're here. I appreciate your care in responding. What you wrote about love stories finding nesting places in our hearts goes deep. How fantastic that you have a third novel and second poetry book in process, and a new work coming into form with an established press. Congratulations! Creativity is ageless. I wish you well in finding playfulness in your writing this year. Joy is so essential in our work and life.
Thank you, Robin. I feel very lucky to have a passion for making things.
Dear Robin,
I read this with tears. So tender, so wise. I love that you're deeply involved in Celtic Shamanic practices. I do believe in curses and that they can be removed. I live with this old ache that flares up and continues to teach me.
I love your honoring of your current dear friend, as well as your early friendship.
I clicked down the song, wow. Thank you for sharing your tenderness with us.
I could say much more about tending. I am a tender...
with love, P
Yes, you certainly are. Thank you, Prajna. In the work you do and the messages you share, you embody what it is to rise to the challenges of tending hope. I'm grateful for your presence in my life, my friend. Thank you for your wise heart. Much love to you. R
This was beautiful, Robin. Thank you. Indeed... we do not know how long we're here. Let's make sure to live every precious minute we have on this earth in gratitude for just being alive.
Thank you, Andrea. I'm grateful for you.
What a beautiful and carefully chosen word for 2026, Robin… Tendere… I adore the Latin version as it rolls off the tongue into a symphony of its own doing in the being… Exquisite 👌🏼💞 xx
Leanda, I'm glad you find music in the word. How lovely. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts. This weekend I'll sit with your beautiful ocean post. 💙✨
Enjoy slow… moving, Robin! 🤗😘😘
Will do!
Thank you, Robin. Inspiring! I love the idea of "tending" in 2026.
Thanks, Julie. I’m glad this idea inspires you, and I appreciate you taking time to comment. It’s a book launch year for you, too! I’ll be cheering.
Poignant. Beautiful. Wise. Thank you, Robin. ♥️
Thank you, Hugh, for your careful reading and loving response.
Hope and wish both need a work on the ground to be achieved, while optimism is about yo see and imagine things may come true as we like.