A new year — new you.

It’s a shiny, new 2015, my fine friends of intention.

I’m a few weeks behind the “new year, new life” discussion — but that’s because I typically take a bit more time the first few weeks of the year to reflect.

And every year, around this time give or take a week or two, peeps are scrambling to unleash the dogs of change all up in this beast. That, or they’re in the self improvement business and swinging for the fences with what they view as the ultimate framework for “new year, new you.”

Me: I’m content with keeping things relatively simple and right to the point.

2014 was a foundation year for me. I struggled in some respects to get clarity and championed focus and growth in others.

All in all, when I look back on what was a pretty nutty year both personally and professionally — I’m increasingly conscious of just how much emphasis I placed on getting aligned and creating a strong foundation to build on.

I’d love to say it was intentional and planned. But then I’d be lying. And would feel like a jackass.

Truthfully, I planned on being much more financially “comfortable” by this timeframe. I had some parameters for monthly revenue. I had goals and a vision and all that fun stuff. I even had a pretty good eye on what it would take to shake off the daily struggles and get unhinged from anxiety.

But then of course, it all worked in the complete opposite direction of my expectations.

So the more I reflect, the more I realize that I was actually doing good work — better than I expected or anticipated kind of work.

The kind of work that doesn’t necessarily show up in stats, planning processes, strategy meetings, resolution parties or the bank account.

But the kind of work that’s necessary to simplify and shrink the gap between effort and intention.

The only reason I even recognize this is because I committed to shutting down for the last few weeks of 2014 and really reflecting on where I’ve been, what I’ve built and where I want to go.

Or more importantly, where I want to put my energy fully in the present moment to get me there.

The lesson?

Sometimes, we don’t need to unleash the hounds of change to nip away our rough edges.

Sometimes, we don’t need to look back or look ahead as much as we need to stand still and seek understanding in the moment instead.

You may find that the answers you seek to drive progress are already there. You just needed to stop asking the wrong questions.