01/22/2026
I don’t usually follow trends, but the “2016 = 2026” conversation made me pause.
2016 was the year I burned my past to light my way, and it’s what I find myself doing again in 2026.
2016 was the year I stopped letting my possessions own me.
I left the concrete jungle of manufactured ease and blinding lights meant to keep us distracted. Toronto was generous, but I needed something truer.
So I moved with my love to vast acreage in the Rocky Mountains. I learned to grow my own food. I drank from a spring. Days slowed. Silence returned. I could finally hear myself again.
I deliberately released relationships that no longer served me. I stripped everything back to reconnect with what made me. With the artist. With the child. With the little girl who escaped Iran and learned early how to endure.
Life became simple and honest. I was commissioned to create art, and I painted endlessly. I read constantly. I obsessively studied natural healing modalities. I helped people through illness, not knowing then that this knowledge would one day help save my father’s life.
Even with a painfully slow satellite connection, I completed some of my biggest projects for international clients.
I cried. I prayed. I practiced yoga. I healed.
When I returned to the pace of the city, back to convenience, I was a completely different person. No longer defined by my work, but by purpose. Difficulty was welcomed. Fear no longer had a place.
Everything slowed down, yet it became the fastest path to a new version of me.
And now, 2026 feels familiar.
Once again, I’m being asked to move beyond comfort.
To release what no longer serves.
To walk forward with intention.