Living from the Frequency of Love

Feb 2

INTENTION SETTING FOR THE NEW YEAR

Sharon Salzberg

If we truly loved ourselves, we’d never harm another. That is a truly revolutionary, celebratory mode of self-care.

This post explores my personal 2026 Intention (different from goals, resolutions,etc.), and how setting intentions is at the foundation of a mindful life. A few lessons from Stranger Things, a snowstorm, and being with the world right now. Your 2026 Intention Setting Worksheet is included!!

Story

After a month of deep inquiry, stumbling through our disorienting current world affairs, and recalibrating in the quiet of home—with the love of family, the laughter of friends, and engagement in meaningful work—I’ve finally landed on my core intention for 2026:

Let me live from the frequency of love.

I’ve been exploring how to live grounded in love for a long time. I’ve come to understand this not just as an emotional preference, but as an energetic orientation — a frequency I’m choosing to tune into, again and again, especially when fear is loud. For the past few years, a quiet mantra has guided me:
Please let my love be bigger than my fear.

That phrasing has been crucial for me — both as a representation of the respect I have for, and a reminder of the perspective I try to keep with, the relationship between love and fear. They are wired into us at the most fundamental evolutionary level, designed to keep us alive.

This lesson was not lost on me as we’ve been snowed in here in Louisville — roads closed, warnings mounting, routines disrupted. Like many parents who feel the vulnerability of raising children, my mind went quickly to practical fears: What if one of us gets sick? What if we lose power? What if we can’t get out?

With every breaking news weather announcement, my deepest fears wielded a megaphone to fill my mind with disturbing worst-case scenarios. I knew I was fully submerged when I spent 42 minutes on the Friday of the storm obsessively looking online for USB-powered heated blankets (not exactly a thing…although there were some that could plug into my car!).

And yet, as the storm settled in and the power stayed on, something else emerged.

We finally joined the millions of people who have embraced the show Stranger Things — a multilayered, visually luminous (and at many times horrifying) metaphor that explores mental health, trauma, childhood, community, internalized fear, and the transcendent power of love.

A major overarching theme is also the abuse of power. In its portrayal of fear and control, the show is strikingly clear about what happens when unintegrated pain drives greed, domination, absolutism, and revenge. It captures the narrowing that occurs under threat and how we can get stuck in fear: how survival mode collapses perspective, how the world shrinks to “me and mine.”

And when we’ve been there too long, in that stuck, damaging space that every human will know at at least one point in our lives, the show offered the cure. And also the vision of what could be all along. Love.

Love, by contrast to stuck fear, is brave, expansive, and bright. In many ways, this is what I mean by frequency. Fear constricts and isolates. Love widens the field. It brings more of ourselves — and more of one another — back online. And love is never a solo mission.

Words I thought I’d never say on a blog…
Spoiler alert for Stranger Things (full disclosure: we just finished the Season 4 finale).

There is a pivotal moment where Max — a teen who is, by nature, independent, fierce, loyal, and deeply curious — is taken by Vecna, the primary antagonist consumed by trauma and revenge. She’s at the county graveyard, sitting on a patch of green summer grass beneath an open blue sky, caught in a tender, unguarded moment of grief as she says goodbye to her troubled step-brother, who has been killed. The scene holds a quiet, almost sacred quality — life continuing around her even as she stands at the edge of traumatic loss.

Vecna connects only to her fear, sadness, and regret — the kind of pain that can take hold and fester when we isolate and listen to internal voices of criticism and doubt. He is able to reach her by narrowing her attention to this one part of herself and amplifying it until she is terrified.

But her friends are nearby, on a mission to connect with and protect Max. They work together to find a way to reach her. As they do, Max begins to remember — rapidly and vividly — moments of profound happiness, friendship, creativity, awe, and wonder. She remembers love. It’s a moment of retuning — her inner world shifting frequencies, moving from isolation and terror back into connection, joy, and meaning.

And when her love grows bigger than her fear, she escapes. Back into her community, she is held and told that her friends are there for her and all of her thoughts/feelings/experiences - her whole self is welcome. I was, of course, sobbing at this point, even as demogorgons are bursting (there is a lot of gore…still pondering what parts of us are resonating so deeply with this series).

The deeper message isn’t about denying fear. It’s about embracing wholeness — allowing fear to exist while also staying connected to love as our foundation. It’s about sharing our burdens with those who care for us. Opening up to others we trust diffuses shame, opens connection, and invites forgiveness and self-compassion.

When we live in the frequency of love, we remember something essential: we are not alone. We are part of nature. We belong to one another. We look around and recognize ourselves in others — you want safety like me, you love your children like me, you want dignity, connection, and a chance to live fully, like me.

Fear says: protect yourself at all costs
Love says: we are in this together

Daily, healthy thriving doesn’t mean we’re not experiencing fear — it means fear becomes a signal. It asks us to slow down, protect what matters, and respond with care. When met consciously, fear can be transformed into purposeful action, deeper connection, and greater empathy for ourselves and others. Fear alerts us to what’s at stake.

Love, however, is what orients us forward. Living from a frequency of love doesn’t mean we are unafraid — it means fear no longer runs the show. Love becomes the center we return to, shaping how we see, choose, and imagine what comes next.

This tension between fear and love isn’t abstract right now — it’s a real cultural crossroads. Over this break, my husband and I slowed down and paid attention. We read about what’s happening in our country. We examined the details and multiple perspectives closely, rather than just the headlines of the media outlets we are familiar with. And alongside the grief and anger, we also saw something else: people organizing, neighbors caring for one another, networks of mutual aid, communities grounded in the belief that all humans deserve food, shelter, safety, and basic dignity. I saw people who, like me, can get caught in fear, people who feel that everything is out of control, people who desperately want a country that feels safe, secure, and with power structures that provide protection, healing, and helpfulness.

May our love be bigger than our fear.
That is “me” expanding into “we.”

Building a mindful life has never been about bypassing fear or ignoring personal safety. Nervous system regulation matters. Self-care matters. But mindfulness is not meant to stop at the individual level. It naturally extends outward—first helping us get grounded in our own sense of safety, and then opening us to the interconnectedness we share with all beings, including our living, breathing planet. Building a mindful life is what allows us to live from the frequency of love.

I noticed this shift happening internally during the storm. Early on, I felt shaky and anxious—my system on high alert after days of warnings. The impulse was to hole up and simply hope 6 cans of tuna and a stack of blankets would handle it. But then I noticed small, orienting moments: a bunny hopping across the yard, friendly neighbors out in the street planning snow removal, my husband and kid excited for popcorn and binging Netflix, remembering a Trader Joe’s cashier who had just moved here from Boston saying, “We live with snow for six months—there are solutions to all of this.” Without realizing it at first, I had shifted frequencies — from catastrophic imagining back into love, trust, and connection.

Slowly, as reality replaced imagination, I remembered (not just in mind, but also in body): we are not alone. We have family nearby. We have caring neighbors. We live in a city that shows up in crisis. We have public servants and systems that care. Here in Kentucky, we’ve seen what thoughtful leadership and coordinated disaster response can look like.

And with that remembering, my body softened. A long exhale came. The fog started to lift, and supportive thoughts started sparking to life, reminding me of my core authentic self, my values, and my intention for living from a frequency of love.

The New Year and Intention Setting

This process matters deeply as we enter a new year.

We often talk about intention-setting as goal-setting — what we want to achieve, fix, or optimize. But meaningful change doesn’t start with outcomes. It starts with foundation. Before we decide what we want to do, we clarify the inner ground we want to live from — the energy, values, and orientation that will shape our choices.

For me, that foundation is the frequency of love. This moment in history is asking for something deeper. Our micro-decisions matter: how we wake up, where we place our attention, how we speak to ourselves and others, how we care for our bodies, how we participate (or don’t) in our communities.

Fear is easy to manipulate. We are biologically wired for it, which makes it a powerful tool for marketing, media, and those who seek control. If you can keep people afraid, you can keep them narrow, reactive, and divided.

Love, on the other hand, requires intention.

In the language of energy, we know frequency matters. Music changes our mood. Environments shape our nervous systems. Frequency can be understood as a quality of attention — energy directed toward a purpose. When we live from fear, we leave parts of ourselves offline. When we live from love, we access creativity, resilience, wisdom, and connection.

For 2026, I invite you to broaden the field of your intention setting.

What is this moment calling for?
How do you want to show up in the world?

What gifts do you possess that meet a need in the world?
What values do you want to live from — especially under pressure?

Year of the Fire Horse

In the Chinese Zodiac, 2026 is a Fire Horse year — a symbol of momentum, agency, fierce conviction, and rapid change. It’s an energy of actualization and movement. But like all powerful forces, it can be expressed in very different ways.

Read that description again and imagine it embodied by someone without moral grounding, integrity, or care for others. Not so inspiring.

This is the essential reminder: energy is neutral. Direction matters. What frequency do you want to align yourself with? If we don’t intentionally make a choice, it’s easy for the choice to be made for us.

Every human holds fear and love. The question isn’t whether we feel both — we will. The question is where we place our foundation. What we orient toward when things get hard. For me, 2026 is about cultivating that foundation — moment by moment — so that I orient my life from a higher frequency of love. Not as a lofty ideal, but as a daily practice of attention, alignment, and choice.

Creating Your 2026 Intentions!

If you’re ready to work with your own intentions and strengthen your foundation, I’ve created a 2026 Intention Setting Worksheet to support that process. It weaves together favorite elements from last year with new reflections designed to help you clarify what this moment is calling for and how you want to show up.

If we already work together, you’re welcome to use this worksheet in our sessions. If you’re new to my work and would like support with 2026 intention setting, you’re invited to reach out. I offer short, focused coaching sessions for grounding and clarity as the year begins.

Wherever you are, and whatever your story, may this offering support you in building a mindful life—guided by intention, connection, purpose, and love.

So grateful to be building a mindful life with you.
May you be well,

Shelly

download 2026 Intention setting worksheet

Practice

Rest, Reflect, Recalibrate

Take a break. A real one. The kind where you can at least put your timer on 20 minutes and step away from whatever you’re pulled into. Put it down, step away. What would be restful in this moment?

A slow walk and some nature

Gentle movement and breathing

Curling up in a chair with warm tea and looking out the window?

What do you need to go into resting mode for a few?

And halfway through your time, take a moment to lightly reflect: What frequency am I tuned into today? Love, Fear, Nervousness, Excitement, Anticipation, Sadness? What is the energy I am in asking of me? And where do I want my energetic foundation to be?

Take a few intentional breaths to imagine connecting to the energy you want to live from. See if there is anything you need. Go back to your day.