More or Less

Energy du Jour | Edition #15

Last night, we were three friends on a winter terrace in Dubai, steam rising from mushroom risotto and lemon-glossed artichoke salad. The evening air had that softness that only comes when the city finally exhales. Candles flickered. The skyline hummed. I asked: “what do you want to do more of, and what do you want to do less of in the new year?” Not what to achieve. Not who to fix. Just more. And less. The simplicity of it felt like a relief on my friends’ faces. As if clarity had always been waiting for permission to speak.

Most years, we approach the new year thinking more goals equals more growth. But energy doesn’t respond to volume. It responds to discernment. The way our nervous system works, it’s not about stacking habits or forcing improvement - it’s about choosing what actually nourishes you and what quietly drains you. Wanting less isn’t shrinking. It’s subtraction as oxygen. Space as clarity.

This isn’t theory for me. I learned it the exhausting way: by burning bright, then burning out, then rebuilding with more humility than pride. And because I’m curious by nature, I went looking for answers - in neuroscience, psychology, somatics and in the lived experiences of people navigating change. Over and over, the patterns were the same: energy rises when friction falls. We get our power back not by doing more, but by choosing with more intention. What I share isn’t a prescription. It’s a map drawn from research and from my own imperfect compass. I don’t know what’s best for you - only that you deserve to feel like your life fits you.

There’s a line in the research that stays with me: reducing overload improves well-being more reliably than adding new commitments. Our nervous system thrives on clarity and hates contradiction. When you remove even one persistent drain - even a small one - your mind frees up bandwidth for presence, creativity, decision-making and last but not least hope. Picture energy like water: it doesn’t need you to whip it into shape; it just needs fewer holes in the container. In practice, when you release one thing that leaks your energy, your system becomes more available for the things that actually make you feel alive. That’s not magic. It’s biology.

And here’s something I’ve learned that no study could teach me: people feel you before they hear you. Before your words, they sense your energy. They register your pace, your presence, whether you’re rushed or rooted. You’ve felt this too - the difference between someone who speaks from overflow and someone who speaks from depletion. The body knows. Energy is a broadcast that precedes language. And when you’re aligned - even a little - the signal changes.

So here’s the gentlest tool I can offer you for this next chapter: take a moment, undistracted and draw two words at the top of a page - More and Less. Under “More” list the things that gave you energy this year, even if they were tiny. Under “Less” list what consistently cost you energy, even if on paper it looked like a good idea. Don’t judge the lists. Just write. Then circle one item from each side. One more. One less. These are not resolutions. They are directions. On the days when energy feels scarce, return to the circles. Let them guide the tiny choices - a boundary, a pause, a redirect, a yes, a no. Alignment isn’t grand; it’s repetitive.

You don’t owe the new year a better version of yourself. You don’t need to arrive polished, strategic or optimised. If you’re ending this year tired or unsure or quietly proud of just surviving - you’re right on time. Even naming one “less” is an act of self-respect. And naming one “more” is a homecoming.

The next year doesn’t ask you to reinvent yourself. Only to give yourself clearer permission. Because the world will feel you before it hears you. Your energy speaks first. Let it tell your truth.

See you in the new year.

Your Internet sidekick,

Negin