So… what the heck is a Misogi?
So… what the heck is a Misogi?
I first heard the word misogi on a random podcast called Lucky Girls Don’t Quit with Kalin Sheick. I was intrigued—and, as often happens, that curiosity sent me straight down a rabbit hole.
Traditionally, Misogi is a Japanese practice of ritual purification, often involving cold water immersion or standing under a waterfall to cleanse the body and spirit. Over time, though, the idea has evolved. Today, it’s often described as a single, year-defining task or project—something far outside your comfort zone—designed to push personal limits, strip away comfort, and foster growth, self-belief, and resilience.
A Misogi isn’t about achieving a brag-worthy goal. It’s about intentionally facing discomfort to expand what you believe is possible. It’s about resetting your perspective, building willpower, and creating a life-defining experience.
Unlike a resolution—lose weight, work out more, drink more water, read more books—things that are mostly attainable, a Misogi is the opposite. It’s designed to be so challenging that success is far from guaranteed. It’s not about setting yourself up for failure though; it’s about expanding who you are, or who you think you are.
So often, we put ourselves in boxes. We limit what we think we’re capable of, limit what we allow ourselves to want or dream about, and even limit what others expect of us.
If you’re anything like me, more than once you’ve said you wanted to do or try something—but dismissed it because you didn’t think you were smart enough, talented enough, bold enough, or because you convinced yourself you didn’t have the time. So it got placed in that mental box labeled “maybe one day.”
Misogi takes that thought or dream and says, today is the day I start.
If you are interested in trying this out, here are the general parameters for choosing a Misogi:
You should have about a 50% chance of failing. In other words, you can’t pick something you’re guaranteed to succeed at.
It should make you nervous and uncomfortable to say out loud—something clearly outside your comfort zone.
It should take time (ideally a year) and disrupt your routine. It shouldn’t already fit neatly into what you’re doing now.
It should be meaningful to YOU. The goal is self-discovery, confronting fears, and proving your capability, making it meaningful only to you, not for external validation.
Your Misogi could be physical, mental or creative, or spiritual/personal.
A physical Misogi might be running a marathon, tackling a wilderness trek like the Appalachian Trail, or even starting that business you always dreamed of. A mental or creative Misogi could be writing a book or online course, learning a new language, or finally learning to quilt or knit or sew. A spiritual or personal Misogi might look like attending (or organizing) a retreat, committing to daily Bible reading, or fasting for an extended periods of time.
The possibilities are endless. Just remember: a Misogi isn’t a one-day event. It’s a project that shapes your entire year, with the core purpose of building confidence and realizing you can handle more than you thought.
I think many of us move through seasons where life feels a little… on repeat. Not bad—just predictable. A Misogi isn’t about dissatisfaction; it’s about curiosity. It’s a way of asking, What might be possible if I let myself try something that feels a little scary?
So… what’s my Misogi for 2026?
That has been a tough one. I’ve considered joining the 5:30 a.m. club—waking up every day at 5:30—which would honestly be the hardest and most life-changing option since I am not a morning person and value every precious moment of sleep. I’ve always wanted to learn how to quilt, paint, and throw pottery, which would be the most fun Misogi by a longshot. Singing lessons made the list. A “healthy” Misogi like drinking the proper amount of water every day (unlikely) or walking daily crossed my mind—but my heart just isn’t in those choices.
The one that keeps rising to the top is writing a cookbook.
For many, many years I’ve wanted to create a place to gather my family’s recipes—a book I could share with my kids and all my nieces and nephews. So between the flowers, my family, and my very real full-time job, I’m adding food to the agenda. I’m going to make a valiant effort to write and publish a cookbook for my family this year.
There. I said it.
What about you? I’d love to know—does choosing a Misogi interest you? And if so… what would yours be?