Release

Most years, I tend to ease into the three words I choose to focus on. But this year, the word release has packed a real punch from the word go.

When Jason and I were in Baja, Mexico in late January, on one of the most fabulous trips I’ve ever taken because it was so chill and relaxing with just the two of us, I floated in the pool one hot afternoon and asked myself what I wanted to release. The phrase “trade fear for courage” dropped into my mind. I loved it. I decided to adopt it.

When we got home, I had trouble falling asleep one night. My conscience was whispering about lining up my values with my actions. I didn’t know what this meant at first, but when I tried to quiet down my busy mind I realised that Substack was not a social media platform I wanted to be associated with due to the increased press about the money they earn from far-right white supremacy fascist newsletters hosted on their site.

I started my Ruby Finch Books newsletter there in June 2023, followed a year later by my monthly podcast Intuitive Courage. After two-plus years, my subscriber numbers were small, but I had enjoyed the process of slowly growing those readers, listeners, and supporters. I thought about transferring my newsletter and podcast to a platform that didn’t feel so morally compromised, but then I remembered my word release.

A better question for me to ask was, “Do I need this?” At first, the answer felt like it had to be yes. I started the newsletter to let people know what Ruby Finch Books was up to, and then to try podcasting after several readers and teachers suggested I should have one. But after trading my fear for courage and deleting Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Spotify, Goodreads, and unpublishing my books for sale on Amazon, I realised just how amazing it feels to cut ties with products that don’t align with my values.

Projects begin and then end. We learn what we can while doing new things, and we meet interesting people along the way. And then we release them when they no longer serve us or we re-evaluate our focus. Perhaps that’s what this word release has really been for me: a re-alignment of who I am and where I’m going (and what I utilise to communicate these things to others).

I wrote a goodbye post on Substack and sent it to my subscribers, and then I deleted everything over there. It felt like the right thing to do. I ported my email subscribers over to my Ruby Finch Books site, where I started a page called Updates. I won’t post on a schedule, but if I have something important to communicate I can use that space. If you are interested, please subscribe there with your email.

So now I’m down to two websites: Ruby Finch Books and my author site here at julianneharvey.com. I have been posting here once a month for years now, but I’m going to stop writing to a schedule and post when I feel like I have something I want to say. I’d love it if you are willing to subscribe here with your email so you don’t miss out on any posts, as my only remaining social media is a Bluesky account.

I’m committing to rebuilding the analog world, by spending way less time on the digital version. I refuse to support evil far-right tech bro oligarchs who systematically destroyed what was initially fun about the internet to sell ads, create disinformation, and cram genAI trash down our throats in an effort to make us less intelligent and empathetic. That’s not a path I choose to walk down any longer.

The best part about releasing things is making room for something new to grow in their place. After release, my next word for 2026 is imagine, and I’ve already spent some time imagining Ruby Finch Pictures into being. I’m committed to finishing the screenplay for Jamesy Harper’s Big Break, working a little on that every day, along with completing my murder mystery novel A Body at the Fair. I’m writing a political journal, responding to the daily nightmare onslaught of the current news cycle. And I’m doing two new things that scare me this year: training as a hospice volunteer, and working out three times a week at fitness classes with other women in my neighbourhood.

It all starts with releasing the things that have run their course. Thank you, for reading this and for being here as a support for me in my writing and publishing journey. Each email subscriber or kind comment about my writing or speaking or teaching or nurturing means so much to me. It makes me feel less alone in this overwhelming and loud world we’re living in. Community care reminds me why it matters that we are alive right now, that we are messy humans having a messy human experience, and why nurture is important. Thank you for your care and kindness.

What are you releasing in these early months of 2026?

3 Words for 2026

Choosing words to focus on for my upcoming year is a favourite December practice for me. I find a time when I’m alone. I close my eyes, breathe deeply, and get quiet enough to listen to my intuition speak. I allow the words I want to rise to the surface of my consciousness, like something submerged in a pool that bobs up to the top.

Every year, I think maybe nothing will be there, but then, like magic, words arrive. This year, those words were: release, imagine, build. They might not be in that order when they initially appear, but when I look at the words, it’s usually easy to decide what comes first. In this case, I want to spend the first portion of 2026 releasing what doesn’t serve me, then imagine my way into new possibilities, before finishing the year by building on those dreams.

I anticipate that release will be the hardest challenge for me. I like to hold onto things. Grievances, irritations, certainties. From years of therapy and five decades of life experience, I know this isn’t a healthy pattern. Life ebbs and flows. Change is a guarantee. Month-by-month and year-by-year, we must re-evaluate what no longer works for us and choose to let some things go.

So I will practice the art of release. For a long time now, I’ve been trying to simplify everything. Minimalism has taught me that it’s better to want less than to have more. I’ve worked on being content with what I have instead of envying what other people have. This has been one of the best decisions of my life. But now, in 2026, I plan to identify and then release even more, so my life and my focus remains uncluttered. I know for sure that I can do anything but not everything, so I will make an effort to release what I no longer need to prioritise what matters most to me.

The second word, imagine, will be easier. I love to dream my way into new hopes and endeavours. I continue to long to form a production company, Ruby Finch Pictures, to turn my literary work into films and TV shows. I planned to do some of this imagining in 2025, but with my commitment to deeper, simpler, quieter this next phase of my career didn’t happen. But there’s time. I’m learning that there’s more time than I think, and slow growth is always preferable to no growth at all.

I’m also applying the word imagine to the murder mystery novel I’m aiming to finish this year, and the political journal I’ve been writing to help me process the endless nightmare of unfolding fascism and hate in our world. I think it falls to each one of us to imagine a healed society and planet. One where equality isn’t for rich or white people, but for every single person who has breath in their lungs. As human beings, we must be able to imagine something more inspiring than the current hierarchical and corporate systems we’ve been made to live under.

Then there’s the last word, build. It’s not enough simply to dream our way into things. We have to put foundations under it. We have to make peace with how slow and messy it can be to build anything that we hope will last. It never goes exactly as planned. I’m hoping to leave room in the building process to be inspired; to change my plans when something better comes along. I want to meet new people this year who might make excellent partners for me with my businesses but also just new friends to hang out with and learn from.

My overall word for 2026 is flexible. This will be a huge challenge for me, because I tend to be rigid as a coping mechanism for life. But I’m going to try to hold looser to everything and everyone. I will continue to practice receiving care and nurture from others, and remember my counsellor’s advice to DO LESS because I tend to over-function and then get resentful.

It’s a whole new year, which offers each of us a fresh chance to try again. To be gentler, with ourselves and others. To have more fun. To laugh every day. To feel afraid and do things anyway. To invest in community care the way we invest in self-care. Here’s to 2026. May it be bright, beautiful, and generous. May each one of us work to make it so.