
Standing in the In-Between
There’s a quiet stretch of days between Christmas and the New Year that doesn’t quite know what it is.
The celebrations have softened.
The decorations still glow, but a little differently.
The calendar hasn’t turned yet, but something inside us already has.
This space can feel many ways at once.
For some, it’s reflective.
For others, it's heavy.
For many, it’s both.

You might be looking back at the year behind you, noticing what grew and what didn’t, what surprised you, what stayed tender longer than expected. You might also be feeling the subtle pressure of what’s ahead, even if no one has said it out loud yet.
So let me say this gently:
There is nothing you need to decide right now.
You don’t need a full plan.
You don’t need a word yet.
You don’t need to know what the new year will hold.
This week is not asking you to arrive anywhere.
It’s simply inviting you to pause.
To notice your breath.
To acknowledge what you’re carrying.
To honor the fact that becoming takes time.
We live in a world that rushes from celebration straight into expectation. But transformation doesn’t begin with urgency. It begins with honesty. With listening. With letting what’s been lived settle.
If you find yourself hopeful, that’s beautiful.
If you find yourself tired, that’s understandable.
If you feel unsure, you are not behind.

You are human.
As the new year approaches, you may hear talk of goals and resolutions and reinvention. If that feels supportive to you, receive it. And if it feels overwhelming, you are allowed to step back and choose another way.
One gentle alternative I’ll be sharing more about soon is the idea of choosing one word for the year ahead. Not as a rule or a demand, but as a companion. A word you walk with, rather than work for. There is no rush for that either. Words have a way of finding us when the time is right.
For now, this moment is enough.
You are allowed to stand right here, in the in-between.
You are allowed to rest before you begin.
You are allowed to enter the new year gently.

May these final days of the year offer you space instead of pressure.
May you release what no longer needs to follow you forward.
And may what is quietly forming within you be given room to breathe.
We’ll walk into what’s next together, one unhurried step at a time.
