This time of year carries a strange, soft magic. It’s not quite New Year’s yet, but the holidays…with their quiet moments of rest…invite a kind of reflection I can’t resist.

The world doesn’t stop, I know that. Time flows on, the days roll forward, life keeps humming with its usual urgency. But there’s something about the collective pause of the holidays that feels like a giant permission slip to finally stop.

To breathe.
To step out of the noise.
To become quiet enough to see.

In this stillness, I notice the edges of a self I’ve quietly outgrown. The old skins that feel too tight. The patterns, stories, and weights that no longer fit who I am becoming.

It’s a subtle invitation to shed, gently, without force. Like our bodies do, effortlessly. Every 24 hours, we shed nearly a million skin cells, a quiet act of renewal that happens without our trying.

Maybe our souls crave that same kind of release.

So in this soft space between what was and what could be, I ask myself:

• What am I ready to lay down?
• What stories or patterns have run their course?
• What no longer serves me?

This is the perfect time to clear space within. To honour the moments that softened me, the lessons that made my heart swell and bloom. To let go of what feels heavy, what binds too tightly, and to carry forward only what truly matters.

I think of this quote by Michael Leunig:

“Each day is a lifetime. In the morning we are born. The day lies before us: vast and bright and new.”

Even though time never really stops, these moments — these pauses — allow us to breathe, to reflect, to begin again. To empty out the old and become a vessel ready to be filled with gold.

Here’s to the quiet magic of slowing down.
To the grace of shedding what no longer fits.
To the deep breath that renews us.

And honestly, thank goodness for the holidays, a moment to stop, exhale, and feel the soft edges of a new beginning.