Years ago, Ali Edwards challenged a growing following of folks to choose ONE LITTLE WORD to take with them through the year as a sort of guiding light or inspiration. 2026 will be my fifth year of choosing a word to walk through the year with me. In 2022, my One Little Word was listen. I learned so much that year holding that one word that for 2023, I kept the same word again – listen. In 2024, I chose pray. In 2025, I chose enough – and life has had its way of showing me some ironic twists on that word.
There is power in words – a strange magic. There is killing and healing and nurturing and reassurance and hope. There are dreams and hard realities, wishes and escapes and triumphs and failures. What I’ve learned by choosing my One Little Word is to choose it carefully – because it has its way of revealing its truths and meaning in ways I never expected. This is not just some flippant exercise where people string some letters together and leash them like a stray dog to drag into a new year, hoping the mystery of the universe will reveal itself. I had no way of knowing last year at this time, as I had finished cleaning out a house and barn in 2024 with the dream of getting our belongings down to just “enough,” that Dad would die smack-dab in the middle of 2025, leaving a lot of loose ends untied, including a house and seven storage rooms filled with a lifetime of more than enough. Since June, the weight of these things and their encumbrance has felt anchoring – and not in a healthy or freeing way. There is still much to be done in the two-steps-forward, one-step-back dance of getting rid of things…..and of letting things go (and there is a difference). It takes time, but the important thing is getting through it. Thank God for my brother and sister-in-law, who have saddled the horse and taken the reins. No pun intended.
How does anyone choose a word? Do I choose a word I need to do, like listen or pray? Do I choose a word I want to do, like read or travel? I believe in verbs. They’re actionable.
Enough was another story, though. This word functions as adjective (enough food), adverb (tall enough), pronoun (have you had enough?), noun (there is enough for everyone), and even as an interjection (Enough!). It all depends on the placement of the word in the sentence. But enough does not function as a verb. It’s the most passive word I’ve chosen as a One Little Word (OLW).
So how? How do I pick one word? Am I overthinking all of this? I need to pray, to listen, to do, to plan, to act, to forgive, to express, to read, to write, to diet, to focus, to breathe, to rest, to exercise, to clean, to laugh, to cry, to grieve and to smile. I want just enough, not too much, and not too little. I feel like a character in a cartoon on a journey standing at one of those signs with a thousand arrows in all directions, not sure of which way to go but feeling packed and ready, map of possibilities in full color in the side of my bag, but there is this ball and chain around my ankle. I simply need to get in motion. To amble, to saunter, to skip, to run, to perambulate, to jump, to not sit still, to not stand by, to take action on movement, to leap, to walk. To go in some direction. Onward.
Onward.
Here’s a word to get me through days, through meetings, through books, through situations, through decisions. Momentum to keep turning the pages, to forge ahead into new experiences and new chapters.
Onward.
It’s an adjective, an adverb, and can be an interjection. It keeps moving in a direction, not standing still or getting stagnant, pressing on but not missing the important moments, either – just not getting bogged down and feeling like my wheels are stuck in the mud.
Onward.
Not necessarily forward or backward, upward or downward but whichever direction seems best to choose. Like bedward at 9:00 p.m. Onward, toward or at a point ahead in time or space.
Onward.
For the last six months of 2025, I’ve felt anchored by the weight of belongings and random antiques and collectibles that were not my acquisitions. I’ve felt handcuffed in the anger and sadness of grief. It’s time to cut it loose…..to let it go…..to move….
Onward.
Common Threads 