Doing Less: 10 New Year Intentions for a Slower, More Peaceful Life
Why I choose Doing less, Instead of more
Every January, the world seems to shout the same message:
Do more. Be more. Fix more. Add more.
More habits. More goals. More productivity. More hustle.
But this year, I’m trying something different.
So this is my quiet commitment to myself: doing less — not as a form of discipline, and not because I’m giving up, but as a way to make space for peace.
Less because I’m tired of rushing past my own life.
Less because I’ve learned that when I fill every corner, there’s no room left to just breathe.
I know this about myself: organization is hard.
I procrastinate.
And then I waste ridiculous amounts of time trying to find things — paper files, computer documents, my reading glasses (which are usually on my head).
I avoid the “big” things by creating lots of little busy things.
It feels productive. It looks productive.
But mostly? It just makes me tired.
And somewhere in all that busy, I miss the sunrise.
I miss the birds.
I miss the quiet because I’m always plugged in — usually to an audiobook, which I love, but sometimes silence is trying to get a word in.
So this year, instead of adding goals, I’m making a list of what I want to do less of.
Not as punishment.
Not as discipline.
But as a way to make space.
Here’s the list-I also created this in a fabulous doing less intentions checklist so you can stop the noise.
1. Less Overcommitting (and Absolutely No Martyrdom)
You know the type — the people who do everything and then complain about doing everything.
If I’m honest, I’ve been that person…more than once.
This year, I want less of that.
I want to stop saying yes because I feel guilty.
Or because “someone has to.”
Or because I don’t want to disappoint anyone.
Instead, I want to ask:
Do I enjoy this?
Can I give it 100%?
Can I commit joyfully?
If not, it’s a no.
Not a dramatic no.
Not a door-slamming no.
Just a peaceful, honest no — so that my yeses can actually mean something.
2. Less Consuming Before Creating
I am very good at gathering. Ideas. Supplies. Plans. Information.
Sometimes I gather so much that I never actually start.
This year, I want less of that.
Before I buy, scroll, research, or stockpile, I want to ask:
What can I already make?
For me, that looks like turning chicken bones and veggie scraps into homemade broth and freezing it in every glass pickle, spaghetti, and honey jar I’ve collected. It’s practical, yes — but it’s also a mindset.
A few small shifts:
- Use what’s already in the fridge before shopping.
- Start the project instead of planning it for three weeks.
- Repurpose before replacing.
- Let “good enough” be enough.
- Create more than I consume.
Because creating builds confidence.
Consuming forever just delays it.
3. Less Harsh Self-Talk (Our Loudest Voice Matters)
I recently saw photos of myself from about 15 years ago.
At the time those were taken, I was convinced I was too curvy.
Too big.
At least 15 pounds overweight.
Looking at them now, I thought:
Wow. I looked great.
And I never celebrated that person then.
That hit me hard.
How many versions of myself have I talked down to?
How many moments have I missed because I was busy critiquing?
This year, I want less of that voice.
Less “you should be better.”
Less “why can’t you just…?”
Less tearing down the person who’s doing her best.
I don’t want to look back in another 15 years and realize I missed loving this version of me too.
4. Less Scheduling, More Savoring
Less really can be more.
I want fewer packed days and more fully lived moments.
I want to schedule less — and do what remains well.
That means:
- Building in “enjoy coffee” time.
- Leaving margins instead of stacking tasks.
- Letting some days breathe.
Peace doesn’t happen in the cracks of an overfull life.
It needs room.
And I want to give it some.
5. Less Clutter (Because Ugh. Just… Ugh.)
This one hurts.
Because it’s so necessary.
Clutter steals time.
It steals energy.
It steals attention.
It’s why I can’t find my glasses. Or that file. Or the email I know I kept.
So this year, I want less of it.
Not perfection — just less.
A few simple starts:
- Create a “2025” email folder. Move everything there. Start fresh.
- Put everything you haven’t touched in a year into one box. Store it.
If you don’t open it in six months? Donate. - Fewer piles. Fewer tabs. Fewer “I’ll deal with it later” spots.
Organization isn’t about having a perfect system.
It’s about not wasting your life looking for things.
6. Less Justifying My Life
I don’t want to spend this year explaining myself.
Why this pace works.
Why that matters to me.
Why I’m choosing this instead of that.
I’m tired of living like I’m on trial.
This year, I want less defending and more living.
Less proving and more trusting.
Less explaining and more being.
7. Less Multitasking, More Focus
Let this be the year of focus.
One thing at a time.
Being where my feet are.
Doing what’s in front of me — and actually being there for it.
Multitasking makes me feel productive.
Focus makes me feel alive.
I’m choosing alive.
8. Less Boundary Guilt
I love boundaries.
Not because they’re rigid — but because they’re kind.
They let people say no.
And when people can say no, their yes means something.
This year, I want less guilt about having them.
Less apologizing for them.
Less shrinking around them.
I want fewer polite yeses and more honest ones — from me and from others.
Because boundaries don’t push people away.
They make room for real connection.
9. Less Going It Alone
We live in a world that rewards self-sufficiency.
Handle it yourself. Be strong. Don’t need anyone.
But the truth is, we do need each other.
This year, I want less pretending I’ve got it all covered.
That might look like:
- Asking for help.
- Letting someone bring the meal.
- Saying “I can’t do this by myself.”
- Sharing the load in small ways.
Just dipping my toes into relying on others.
Because independence is strong.
Interdependence is stronger.
10. Less Forcing, More Flow
If it doesn’t flow, maybe it isn’t meant to.
This year, I want less pushing doors that don’t open.
Less grinding just to prove I can.
Less calling it failure when something simply doesn’t fit anymore.
Instead:
- More listening.
- More pivoting.
- More trusting redirection.
Resistance isn’t always something to push through.
Sometimes it’s something to pay attention to.
Making Room for the Morning
At the heart of all of this is a simple picture I keep coming back to:
A quiet morning.
The sun coming up.
Birds doing their thing.
A cup of coffee.
No hurry.
Not always plugged in.
Just being.
If I do less of what crowds my life —
maybe I’ll finally have room for the life that’s been waiting for me all along.
So this year, I’m not asking:
What should I add?
I’m asking:
What can I gently let go of?
What might you doing less in the New Year look like for you?

