Manifesto for being

Jan 2

3 min read

As we cross the threshold into a new year, I wanted to share something different this week. This piece was inspired by a post by David Hieatt on the power of doing. His words resonated and prompted a question: if doing has a manifesto, might being have one too? Not as a counterpoint, but as a companion.

My first instinct was to write a new list. I realised how deeply I've been trained to orient life around movement, momentum, optimisation. Even my best intentions often come wrapped in urgency. I often conflate progress with speed. I treat rest as something to be earned.

This felt like the right moment to write something different. So instead of only looking forward, I also looked back. It changed the tone of the year ahead almost immediately. The future no longer felt like a demand, simply a continuation.

To be clear. This is not a rejection of ambition or action. Instead, it’s an invitation to ground both in presence, discernment, and care. To acknowledge what we’ve already lived so that we can move forward. To choose coherence over acceleration and to name what has emerged.

Here's my manifesto for being.

If you feel the urge to change everything, pause. Not every discomfort requires action. Sometimes it just requires attention.
Resist false urgency. Speed can create motion without meaning. Let clarity set the pace.
Move at your pace. Not the fastest pace possible, but the one that allows integration.
Honour completion, but don’t worship it. What matters isn’t how much you finish, but how you inhabit what you begin.
Pay attention to where your energy goes. If something drains you, it may still be necessary but not forever.
Protect your attention. What you attend to shapes who you become.
Expect friction. Growth often arrives disguised as inconvenience, grief, or uncertainty. This does not mean you’re failing.
Make space for rest before you earn it. Rest is not a reward for productivity. It is a condition for wisdom.
Let presence count as progress. Listening deeply, staying when it’s uncomfortable, and being available are forms of contribution.
Release the need to be impressive. A meaningful life is rarely efficient and almost never tidy.
Learn the difference between effort and force. Effort can be loving. Force is usually fear in disguise.
Trust small shifts. Change is rarely loud. It happens quietly, layer by layer, moment by moment.
Allow yourself to be changed by what you encounter. Being open is not weakness. It is how life teaches us.
Spend more time where you feel most energised. Not where you are most useful, but where your favourite self.
Remember that meaning is relational. We become who we are through others and through care, conflict, love, and loss.
Let go of what no longer fits without drama. Shedding is not quitting. It’s making space.
Plan lightly. Hold the future with intention, not control. Adaptation is not failure.
Make room for grief, joy, and not knowing. A full life includes all three.
Measure mastery by coherence, not output. Does your outer life resemble your inner truth?
Remember: you are not behind. You are becoming.

This week

Reach in: Notice where you feel behind. Ask yourself whose clock you’re measuring yourself against, and what happens when you stop.

Reset: Choose one place in your life to slow down. Let clarity, not urgency, set the pace.

Reach out: Have a conversation with someone you trust about who you’re becoming, not just what you’re doing. Let being be shared.

My wish for you this year is this: that you move forward at a pace that feels human, grounded, and true. May the new year bring you much love and light. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey. You have brought me so much joy.