By Jo Muirhead

Every December, I try to sit down and make sense of the year that was. Not from a performance lens, not from a “did I hit my goals?” spreadsheet, but from the deeper place—the place that asks:

“What actually mattered?”
“How did this year shape me?”
“Who am I becoming because of it?”

And 2025 has been a year that asked a lot of questions.
Big ones. Tender ones. Courageous ones.
The kind of questions that poke gently at the truth you’d rather not rush past.

If I had to capture this year in a single word, I actually did.
My anchor for 2025 was Optimism.

Not the saccharine, plaster-on-a-smile version.
Not blind positivity or “good vibes only.”
But the deep, grounded kind—the kind that whispers:

“Even here, something new is possible.”
“Even now, there is a way through.”
“Even with limits, there can be hope.”

Optimism became the lens through which I began to see my work, my leadership, my health, my relationships, and my capacity.
And—unexpectedly—it softened me. It stretched me. It taught me.

Here’s what mattered in 2025 and how it continues to make me a better leader, mentor, supervisor, and human.

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1. Capacity Is Not a Moral Issue (and It Never Was)

I spent another year living with a chronic condition that limits my working hours to around eight a week.

That used to feel like failure.

But optimism asked,
“What if capacity isn’t a flaw? What if it’s information?”

This year I stopped treating my limits as a problem and started treating them as a compass.

And everything changed.

Working with deeper clarity instead of frantic productivity has made my work better.
I’m more present.
More intentional.
More aware of what actually moves the needle for my clients and supervisees.

It also made me far more compassionate—toward myself and toward every clinician quietly holding their life together while still trying to serve others.

Because capacity is never just about time. It’s about health, emotional bandwidth, life-load, grief, trauma, regulation changes, and a hundred invisible factors.

This shift alone has transformed how I teach and supervise: I no longer help people “fit more in.”
I help them work with what they actually have.

Optimism helped me see that limited capacity doesn’t diminish impact—
it refines it.

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2. Connection Over Performance (A Lesson I Learned the Hard Way)

Early in my career, I confused proximity with connection.
I mistakenly believed that the people I worked with could meet all my relational needs: friends, peers, support system.

It was a disaster.

It created blurred boundaries, unmet expectations, and deep loneliness.
And that loneliness drove me into extreme over-functioning and debilitating perfectionism.

I didn’t have anyone who could hold space for me as the leader.
No one to help me gain perspective or support me through hard decisions.

This year, optimism nudged me toward a different truth:

We are not meant to lead alone.

So I built the right connections—trusted peers, mentors, wise colleagues who see me, not just my work.

I don’t have the big business I once had.
But I am more connected now than ever.

Not because I have more people—
but because I have the right people.

This has transformed my leadership and my mentoring.
I don’t model overfunctioning.
I don’t glorify “busy.”
I don’t pretend capacity is unlimited.

Instead, I teach connection as a professional necessity—
a cornerstone of sustainable practice.

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3. Reflection Over Reactivity: Rhythms That Make Us Human Again

This year, Your Plan became even more central—not as a productivity tool but as a reflection rhythm.

Through quarterly workshops, seasonal reviews, and gentle weekly practices, I watched clinicians and business owners experience clarity they hadn’t felt in years.

Reflection isn’t indulgent.
It’s essential.

It prevents the slide into burnout.
It reveals the truth under the noise.
It anchors us to what matters, especially when systems, funding structures, and compliance demands shift under our feet.

Optimism helped me see that reflection isn’t about looking back with regret.
It’s about looking forward with courage.

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4. The Courage to Simplify (Even When It’s Scary)

2025 was the year I fully embraced simplification.

I stopped dividing my energy between Purple Co and JoMuirhead.com.
I streamlined my offers.
I let go of work that no longer fit the season I’m in.
I made peace with building something more spacious, not more impressive.

Simplifying wasn’t shrinking—it was strengthening.

And it made me a better mentor and supervisor because I stopped teaching from over-extension and started teaching from alignment.

Optimism kept asking,
“What if less is the doorway to more?”

It turns out it is.

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5. Saying Hard Truths With Soft Edges

This year I spoke publicly and professionally about some confronting topics:

• moral injury
  
• trauma-informed vs trauma-aware practice
  
• psychosocial risks in health workplaces
  
• chronic illness
  
• the loneliness of leadership
  
• the responsible use of AI

I don’t speak about these things to be provocative.
I speak about them because they matter—and because they shape the reality of the clinicians and businesses I serve.

Optimism guided me to speak truthfully without despair—
to hold reality with compassion and possibility at the same time.

And that’s the kind of leadership I choose now.

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What All of This Means for 2026

Everything 2025 taught me — about capacity, connection, simplification, truth-telling, and grounded optimism — is shaping how I want to move into 2026.

Not as a reset.
Not as a reinvention.
But as a continuation of the lessons that actually matter.

So if 2025 was the year of learning,
2026 becomes the year of living those lessons.

Here’s what that looks like:

• sustainable — built at a pace my body and life can support
  
• connected — with the right people, not just more people
  
• reflective — guided by rhythm, not reactivity
  
• human — leaving room for softness, limits, and truth
  
• grounded — anchored in what matters, not what’s loud
  
• wise — choosing depth over speed
  
• anchored in optimism — not urgency

And not the “good vibes only” kind of optimism.

But the steady, spacious, intentional kind—the kind that says:

“Because of what I learned this year, I can walk into next year with hope on purpose.”

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A Gentle Invitation

Everything I’ve learned, taught, surrendered, and rebuilt this year is at the heart of what I’m creating for 2026 inside Your Plan.

Your Plan is not a planner.
It’s a rhythm.
A community.
A way of staying connected to yourself and grounded in what actually matters.

It’s the tool I wish I had when I was lonely, over-functioning, and drowning under expectations no one asked me to carry.

If you want 2026 to feel clearer, steadier, more connected—and more optimistic—stay close.
There’s more information on its  way about how you can join  the Your Plan community 

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Closing: Gratitude, Always

Thank you for reading my words, trusting my work, and allowing me into your professional world.

Thank you for showing up—for yourself, for your clients, and for the people who rely on your wisdom.

And thank you for letting me become the kind of leader, mentor, supervisor, and human I’m proud to be.

Here’s to a 2026 filled with clarity, connection, capacity, and optimism—the grounded, courageous kind.

Finish wise, not just fast.
— Jo