I was halfway through Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings when a single line stopped me in my tracks:
“Aim at nothing, and you hit nothing.”
Not because it was particularly profound — but because I finally understood what it wasn’t talking about.
I wasn’t paying much attention to the film. I was lazing on the sofa one afternoon, half-watching a movie I’d already seen a few times. Yet this line, spoken almost in passing, made me sit up.
In the film, the hero’s best friend is scattered — unsure of who she is or what she wants. She drifts through life, unfocused, hiding behind humour and self-doubt. When danger approaches and she is asked to train as an archer, she is told plainly that she isn’t ready. And honestly, I agreed.
When the battle finally comes, she is handed a bow and a quiver. As she begins to overthink and talk herself out of the moment, an older woman quietly says to her: “Aim at nothing, you hit nothing.”
For me, this had nothing to do with archery.
It was about inner direction.
The Way We’ve Been Taught to Aim
As we enter a new year, I want to take a moment to wish you a happy new year.
January often arrives carrying pressure — to reset, to improve, to reinvent ourselves. We’re encouraged to make resolutions, set goals, and chase a better version of ourselves. New Year, New Me.
For years, I did exactly that.
I set goals with great intention: gym memberships, diet plans, financial targets, self-help books, productivity systems. On paper, everything made sense. But by the end of January — sometimes sooner — those goals began to feel less like inspiration and more like restrictions.
Looking back now, I can see why.
My aim was scattered because it was focused almost entirely on the outside.
When the Aim Is External, Nothing Truly Lands
Behind those goals were unspoken motivations:
a certain body, a certain lifestyle, approval, belonging, validation.
Even when the goals were framed as “healthy” or “productive,” they were rarely about internal shifts. They were about outcomes. About how things would look. About who I might become once I achieved something.
And because the aim was external, nothing ever truly landed.
At the time, I didn’t have the language for this. Writing it now, I can’t help but smile — a little bittersweet, but compassionate toward the version of me who was trying her best.
The Year Everything Shifted
Something changed last year — and that’s why this line from the film stayed with me.
When I sat down in December 2024 to reflect on what I wanted to focus on in 2025, my list didn’t contain goals or resolutions. It pointed inward.
Instead of asking what I wanted to achieve, I asked what within me needed attention.
One example: rather than aiming to change my body, I focused on my health. I addressed long-standing health issues that had limited my movement, and I began taking mobility seriously — not for aesthetics, but so my future self could move with less pain and more freedom.
That shift changed everything. It anchored me in the present while caring for my future.
I also softened my inner dialogue. I learned to speak to myself with compassion rather than criticism. That alone opened doors I’d previously shut — reattempting things I’d abandoned, saying yes to experiences I would have avoided.
From Goals to Compasses
When I stopped living from the outside in and began living from the inside out, my relationship with change transformed.
I no longer had rigid goals or resolutions. I had compasses. I had pillars.
And instead of disappearing when motivation dipped, they evolved — because they were rooted in who I was becoming, not what I was trying to prove.
Every time I felt the urge to change something externally, I went inward first — often through journaling — to understand why I wanted that change. That practice alone was transformational.
I stopped chasing validation and started cultivating alignment.
Aiming Where It Matters
Back in the film, when the moment comes for the trainee archer to act, she finally quiets the noise around her. She aims at a vulnerable point — not with certainty, but with presence.
And in doing so, she makes a difference.
From where I sat, the elder’s words weren’t about hitting a target. They were about aiming where it matters.
An Invitation for This January
So this January, before setting goals or resolutions, I invite you to ask yourself:
* Why do I want this?
* What do I believe will change once I achieve it?
* What am I really aiming for?
Aiming inward means asking “why” until the answer feels uncomfortable. Until it touches something you’ve been avoiding. It’s about honesty — and it’s a practice I deeply encourage through journaling.
If journaling feels unfamiliar or difficult, you’re not alone. In February, I’ll be opening a limited number of one-to-one spaces for those who want support learning how to sit with themselves and understand their inner world more clearly. You can read more about that opportunity [here].
And remember — change doesn’t belong to January alone. You can choose differently at any point. This is your life, and you’re allowed to live it on your own timeline.
The ultimate goal isn’t to spend life chasing achievements — it’s to build a life you can actually inhabit and enjoy.
This year, I’m not aiming at a body, a routine, or a list.
I’m aiming at alignment — and trusting that what needs to move on the outside will follow.
Thank you for taking the time to read.
Let’s effect the change we need by sharing our experiences.

Thanks.
Happy New Year!
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