By mid-to-late January, a familiar quiet tends to settle in. The lists have been abandoned. The apps go unopened. The habits that were supposed to “stick” after a few weeks have already slipped away. If you’re following the usual cultural script, this is the point at which failure is silently assumed.
For caregivers, that story rarely fits.
I come from a theater and improv background, where you learn early that rigid scripts don’t survive real life. You can rehearse all you want, but once you’re on stage, the only thing that matters is what’s actually happening in the moment. Caregiving works the same way. Nights are interrupted. Plans shift. Energy fluctuates. The very conditions required for habit-building are the ones caregiving most reliably disrupts.
This is where intentions offer a different way of moving through the day.
An intention is not a promise about what you will do every day. It is an orientation—a way of staying present with what’s unfolding rather than insisting on a script. In improv, you listen first. You respond to what’s offered. You don’t judge the moment for failing to match the plan. Intentions work the same way. They aren’t measured by streaks or outcomes, but by responsiveness. You adjust. You notice. You continue.
That distinction matters. A habit can be broken by one hard night. An intention can adapt to it.
Many caregivers are already improvising without calling it that. You are constantly reading the room, tracking cues, and responding to what’s actually there rather than what you hoped would happen. An intention simply gives language to that skill. It allows you to hold meaning without demanding consistency.
An intention might sound like: I intend to meet myself with compassion when things feel unfinished. Or: I intend to stay curious in difficult moments. Or: I intend to notice what is still steady, even when everything feels fragile. These aren’t goals to complete. They’re ways of saying “yes, and” to the life in front of you.
If you made resolutions this year and they’ve already fallen away, that doesn’t mean you failed. It may mean the structure was never built for the life you’re actually living. Mid-to-late January doesn’t get to grade you. Neither does productivity culture. Caregiving asks for presence, adaptability, and care—not perfection.
Improv Invitation: Instead of asking whether you’ve kept a resolution, consider this: what intention might help you stay in the scene you’re already in? You don’t have to get it right. You just have to stay engaged.