What Worked in 2025: An Executive Function Twist on New Year Goals
As 2026 kicks off, my first instinct is the familiar one: sit down, and make the list: What do I need to fix? How do I level up as a professional? How do I show up better as a husband, and as a man?
But this year, I’m forcing myself to pause before the overhaul begins. I’m asking another question first—one that feels almost counterintuitive in our constant-optimization culture: What actually worked in 2025? What habits, routines, or small choices quietly compounded into real results in the areas that matter most—my health, my finances, my relationships with the people I love?
As I look back, I’m realizing these “wins” weren’t flashy. They didn’t come with dramatic announcements or viral productivity hacks. They were simple, repeatable things that brought steady progress… and, more importantly, peace.
And peace is the real tell. When something consistently reduces friction and increases calm, that’s a signal worth listening to. So before I rush to reinvent everything, I’m choosing to identify and protect what’s already working.
Here’s to a 2026 that builds on quiet strengths as much as it chases bold improvements. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. Nurture it. Double down on it. Let it compound.
What about you? As you look back on 2025, what’s one thing that quietly worked—one habit or choice you plan to keep and protect this year?
I’d love to hear more about it in the comments or when we catch up later this month.
Man proceeds in the fog. But when he looks back to judge people of the past, he sees no fog on their path. So says Milan Kundera in his essay Testaments Betrayed.
I find myself thinking about this sentiment as we cap off the first month of 2026. I have been reflective, and admittedly quite sentimental so far this year, as suddenly, and without warning, this is now my tenth year in executive function coaching.
In the context of his essay, Kundera argues that history is often judged by those who lack the context of the "fog"—the inherent uncertainty and ambiguity that decision-makers endure in real time. At its core, this means the present is always navigated through a veil of not knowing the outcomes, where decisions feel tentative and paths unclear, yet hindsight renders everything deliberate and obvious after the fact.
Just like the important decision-makers throughout history, we, too, navigate blindly through an ethereal mist of life and time, where the world shrouds our decisions with uncertainty—much like the rugged, moss-covered rocks strewn about the beaches of my native Long island on a foggy morning. I've experienced how this "fog" manifests in everyday struggles both in my own personal life and in my professional life as an executive function coach.
In this article, I'll explore how it applies to procrastination, paralysis, and progress—offering (hopefully) practical, evidence-based strategies to move forward with compassion both for ourselves and our loved ones.
Why Hindsight Feels So Clear
We all walk through life's mist: decisions are made with limited visibility, influenced by stress, incomplete information, and cognitive overload. Yet, when reflecting on past actions—our own or others'—the path appears straight and fog-free. "Why didn't I see that?" we ask. Or, as parents or leaders, "Why couldn't they just push through?"
This hindsight bias exacerbates self-judgment and misunderstanding in others, particularly in contexts like education, parenting, and professional development where executive functions come into play. EF skills—planning, task initiation, emotional control, and more—are the brain's command center, but they're quite vulnerable to this fog.
Procrastination Often Isn't Laziness—It's Paralysis
In my experience coaching families and students and professionals, procrastination often stems from a deeper paralysis. It's that overwhelming sensation: nothing seems to be working, progress feels nonexistent, so why even try? The brain, already taxed by EF weaknesses, shuts down under the weight of perceived failure.
This isn't a character flaw; it's a neurological response to uncertainty. In the fog, every task looms large, and without visible milestones, motivation evaporates. For children, teens, or adults with ADHD or similar challenges, this can lead to avoidance behaviors that spiral into bigger issues.
Strategies to Thin the Fog
The good news? We don't need to wait for the mist to clear—we can create small lights to guide us. These include:
Celebrating the Small Victories: Progress in EF is slow but measurable. Acknowledge every tiny win, even when problems outweigh successes. This rewires the brain toward optimism, countering paralysis.
Chunking Tasks into Manageable Pieces: Just as we break down essay writing or test prep, apply chunking to daily habits. One email, one organized drawer, one initial brainstorm. These micro-steps make initiation feel achievable, reducing the overwhelming feeling of getting started. Once the ball gets rolling it's usually all down hill from there.
Embracing Self-Compassion: Stop the self-beating. It's impossible to "know better" until we've learned—often the hard way. The key is applying the lesson without shame. We must focus on remediation over recrimination.
The Essential Role of Structured Rest
One often-misunderstood aspect of EF support is the need for intentional breaks. Some individuals—especially those with attention challenges—require short, intermittent intervals to restore mental bandwidth. This is necessary for sustaining focus and initiating the next task.
I normally advise my clients to consider:
Music During Study Sessions: A quick playlist interval can reset the mind, providing auditory stimulation that calms without distracting.
Structured Video Game Breaks: Timed sessions (e.g., 10 minutes after 25 focused minutes) act as decompression, preventing burnout. The Pomodoro technique builds this in: work intensely, then rest deliberately.
These tools clear mental fog, recharge executive resources, and make longer productivity stretches possible. Dismissing them as frivolous ignores the science—the rest is part of the work.
Take the Struggles Seriously
For parents in particular: Understand and validate your child's world. Those video games or endless scrolling? They're often escapes from genuine stresses—academic pressure, social dynamics, decision fatigue—that feel monumental to them. What seems "unserious" to adults is often a serious coping mechanism.
Downplaying these only thickens the fog. Instead, engage, structure these breaks into the routine, recharge, then tackle the next chunk together. This builds trust, teaches self-regulation, and models compassionate leadership—skills that translate to professional environments, too.
Compassion in the Mist
We're all proceeding through the fog—parents, professionals, children alike. The bravest act is extending patience: to ourselves for the lessons learned hard, and to others for their unseen struggles. By celebrating small wins, chunking tasks, incorporating rest, and validating experiences, we don't eliminate the mist—we navigate it better.
What's one small victory or rest strategy that's helped you lately? Please feel free to share them with me. As always, let's connect if this resonates. Building a resilient mind often doesn't happen alone, but with the support and care of the trusted individuals around us.
#ExecutiveFunction #LeadershipDevelopment #ParentingStrategies #ADHDInsights #ProductivityHacks #CompassionateCoaching
When will we see results?
It's a fair question, and I'd ask it too. I've certainly been asked it enough times over the past ten years. Here's what I normally tell my families: this takes longer than you think — not because something is wrong, but because that's how the brain works.
Executive function skills — the ability to plan, organize, manage time, regulate emotions, stay focused, shift gears — don't develop the way you learn a fact or memorize a formula. They develop the way you get physically fit, or learn an instrument, or build a real relationship — through repetition, through failure and adjustment, and through sustained time and practice.
Adele Diamond's foundational research on executive function makes this clear: these skills build through sustained, contextual practice embedded in daily life — not through short programs, not through isolated drills, and definitely not through a six-week course followed by a certificate.
The research on interventions backs this up too. Studies consistently show that meaningful gains in working memory, inhibitory control, and cognitive flexibility — particularly for kids and adults with ADHD — come from structured, ongoing support. More hours of coaching correlate with better outcomes, and that finding shows up across multiple systematic reviews.
What this means in practice is that coaching isn't a repair job with a finish line. It's an open-ended relationship that evolves alongside the client. In the early months, we're building awareness, learning what's actually hard and why, and establishing systems that hopefully will stick.
Later, we stress-test those systems, because life doesn't cooperate. Routines break, motivation disappears, a new school year arrives and everything shifts. That's where the real work happens — not in the easy stretches, but in the recovery.
And over time, something quieter starts to happen. The client needs less from me, starts catching themselves, and begins applying something we talked about six months ago without being reminded.
For me, that's always a sign of progress. And progress announces itself when a parent tells me: I don't know what changed, but something is different.
I won't pretend this is easy for families to hear. Everyone wants results, and they want them reasonably quickly. I get it. But I'd rather be straight with you about what this actually looks like than overpromise and underdeliver.
The families I've worked with who get the most out of coaching are the ones who reframe the question — not "when will this be fixed?" but "how do we build something that lasts?"
Patience and diligence and faith in each other make all the difference.
References
Diamond, A. (2013). Executive functions. Annual Review of Psychology, 64, 135–168.
Shepard, E., et al. (2023). Applied Neuropsychology: Child, 12(4), 327–343.
Ramos-Galarza, C., et al. (2024). Journal of Clinical Medicine, 13(14), 4208.
Qiu, H., et al. (2023). Asian Journal of Psychiatry, 87, 103692.
Anderson, K., & Marino, M. T. (2024). Journal of Postsecondary Education and Disability, 37(2), 131–142.