Space. It's our mind's currency.

In yoga, we create space in the body and mind by releasing what no longer serves us—physical tension, emotional tension, stored trauma, etc. It's difficult but important work. We create this space so we can fill it with whatever we choose.

A couple of weeks ago, my niece made a treasure chest out of a cardboard box and shiny wrapping paper. She began filling it with "treasure." She was discerning, though. Only filling it with the most special items she could find, thoroughly contemplating before each selection.

"This is good now," she said. "I'll keep filling it with special things as I find them."

She could have stuffed it immediately, but she chose to reserve space for what she really wanted. Smart kid.

I have some space to fill in 2016, but I've been putting a lot of thought into what I wanted to fill it with, just like Lola did with her treasure chest. There are so many good things I could stuff it with, but I don't just want good stuff—I want only the stuff that will serve me the best right now.

I wrote up some intentions for the year. Then I edited, simplifying them more and more until I landed on one word:

Light.

I want to feel light—not the lightness that's determined by the scale but the lightness you feel when you're doing what you should be doing. When you aren't weighed down by any stress because you know everything is as it should be.

Do you know the feeling I'm talking about? Your breath slows and all you really want to do is absorb every moment. Like when you're bathing in the sun and you close your eyes to feel its warm rays kissing your skin. Nothing else matters in that moment.

I want to bathe in the sun.

I want to follow that feeling. And I have some more specific intentions to start. They aren't embarrassing or personal by nature, but I feel compelled to keep them to myself. Somehow they feel intensely personal. This is my treasure and I only want to share it with my closest co-pirates.

Part of me feels like I should be blasting my intentions everywhere. My social newsfeeds right now are filled with resolutions ... along with glittery dresses and ads for weight loss programs that promise change.

And I get it.

Sharing your goals adds accountability. Words can hold weight. Sharing something with the world, even if it's just your Facebook friends, can be freeing. It can create space, much like a yoga practice.

But I don't want to do that. I want to keep this treasure inside. Not because it's a secret but because I really don't want any external validation or opinions. I just want to know that what I'm doing is right for me.

Is that strange? Maybe it's strange. But it feels right. I'm trusting this feeling and I will say this—I've never felt better about my intentions for a new year.

I hope that in 2016 you fill open space with your perfect treasures.

Namaste.

My word for 2016