Well, here we are, friends—New Year’s Eve. The night of glittering ball drops, noisy party favors, and overpriced everything. The night we’re supposed to plaster on smiles, make empty resolutions, and pretend like a calendar change will magically fix our lives. But let’s be real: do we actually need all this noise to mark the turning of a page? Or can we ditch the BS and ring in 2025 with a little more purpose?
Let’s start with the obvious culprit: fireworks. Sure, they’re pretty. But they also terrify pets, stress wildlife, and litter the ground with debris that no one bothers to clean up the next morning. And for what? Ten minutes of oohs and aahs? Fireworks also trigger veterans and others with PTSD (myself included) and can be overwhelming for those with auditory sensitivities or processing issues—like both my boys, the Mister, and me. Nature doesn’t need a light show to celebrate renewal. The cycles of the Earth—the budding of a spring flower, the quiet settling of winter snow—remind us that growth happens without fanfare. Maybe we could take a page from that.
Then there’s the excessive spending. How many of us drop cash on cheap hats, noise-makers, and all the other disposable junk that’s bound for a landfill by January 2nd? Don’t even get me started on the food waste from lavish parties where half the spread ends up in the trash. It’s like we’re trying to buy our way into a better year instead of creating one.
Here on the farm, New Year’s isn’t about glitz or waste. It’s a time to pause, reflect, and prepare for the next cycle. We look at what worked this year and what didn’t. We celebrate the small victories—like the compost pile that finally turned to rich, black soil—and we make plans to do better, not because it’s trendy, but because it’s necessary.
Nature doesn’t rush into change. The soil rests in winter, storing up energy for the explosion of growth that comes in spring. It’s a reminder that transformation isn’t loud or flashy—it’s intentional and steady. That’s the kind of energy I want to carry into 2025.
So, how about we leave behind the fireworks, the waste, and the hollow resolutions this year? Instead, let’s celebrate with purpose. Light a candle. Share a simple meal with loved ones. Write down one small, meaningful goal for the year ahead—not something to pressure yourself with, but something to nurture and grow, like planting a seed in the ground.
This year, we won’t be staying up to watch the ball drop or going out. The night you just read about? That’s pretty much our plan. A quiet candlelit moment, a simple meal, and a shared goal for the year ahead. It’s a celebration, but one that aligns with what we value: connection, intention, and sustainability.
This New Year’s, let’s skip the BS and focus on what really matters. Because if the land has taught me anything, it’s that the quiet, deliberate work of renewal is far more powerful than any fireworks display.
Until next time,
Traci
