An intention can orient our energy toward something meaningful. It can also become another standard we use to prosecute ourselves.
The difference is often in the emotional quality beneath it. “I will accomplish this exact result” gives the primitive brain a pass-or-fail test. “I intend to feel more connected, honest, supported, or alive as I move” gives us a direction we can practice in many forms.
We can care about a concrete outcome and still ask what we hope it will give us emotionally. That answer often reveals more possible paths than the original plan.
Clear the Old Resolutions First
Unfinished intentions do not vanish. They can gather into an invisible backlog of disappointment: projects we abandoned, promises we made under pressure, and goals that belonged to an earlier version of us.
Before setting a new intention, sort the old ones:
- Is this still alive for me?
- Does it need a smaller next movement?
- Was it someone else’s definition of a good life?
- Is there grief or embarrassment to acknowledge?
- Can I release it without declaring myself a failure?
Self-acceptance is not pretending every choice was ideal. It lets us learn without needing shame as the teacher.
Find the Feeling Inside the Goal
Suppose the stated intention is to finish a project, improve a relationship, earn more, or change where you live. Ask:
- What do I imagine I will feel when this happens?
- Where is a small amount of that quality already available?
- What action would express it now?
If the desired quality is connection, the next step may be an honest conversation rather than forcing a visit to unfold perfectly. If it is freedom, we may need a clean no before we need a bigger plan. If it is eagerness, a five-minute experiment may serve better than a rigid schedule.
Tapping: I Have to Get This One Right
Side of the Hand: Even though I have old resolutions hanging over me, I am willing to separate learning from punishment.
Even though part of me wants a perfect plan before I begin, I can choose a meaningful direction and let the path teach me.
Even though I am afraid I will disappoint myself again, I can make this intention kinder, clearer, and more alive.
Top of the Head: All those unfinished intentions.
Eyebrow: Evidence that I cannot trust myself.
Side of the Eye: Another year, another rule.
Under the Eye: I do not want to fail this test.
Under the Nose: Maybe this does not have to be a test.
Chin: I can release what is no longer mine.
Collarbone: I can keep the wisdom without keeping the whip.
Under the Arm: I can listen for the quality I truly want.
Top of the Head: What would feel connected?
Eyebrow: What would feel honest?
Side of the Eye: What would feel quietly exciting?
Under the Eye: I can choose one expression of that today.
Under the Nose: The form is allowed to evolve.
Chin: My intention can guide rather than corner me.
Collarbone: I am building trust through tolerable action.
Under the Arm: I choose a direction my whole body can join.
Take a breath. Complete this sentence: “The emotional quality I intend to practice is…”
Truth Still Includes Discernment
An intention to be honest does not require exposing ourselves to everyone. Some people can receive nuance; others use personal information carelessly or punish directness. We can ask, “What does not feel safe about saying this here?” and respond to the actual relationship.
Sometimes integrity means a full truth. Sometimes it means a clear boundary, a brief answer, or declining to participate. The intention is not compulsory disclosure. It is remaining in relationship with our own knowing.
Let Co-Creation Support the Intention
Speaking an intention to a trusted person can help it feel real. The purpose is not surveillance or pressure. A useful co-creator can reflect the quality we chose, help us notice progress, and stay curious when the form changes.
We do not need to manufacture the whole year at once. We can name what matters, clear one old burden, and make one emotionally congruent movement.
Session Audio
This Guide was adapted from a Thriving Now session with Rick Wilkes and Cathy Vartuli, recorded January 16, 2013. The transcript was generated automatically and may contain errors.