december is a lot

December has a way of slowing things down,

though not always in the peaceful way one might want. There’s this gnawing sense of taking stock, even when you try to avoid it. I notice what moved this year and what didn’t,

what I expected and was, in fact, shown. What I built. What was delayed and delayed. What didn’t even happen. What I’m proud of. What still feels tender. (Like, will I ever get over myself? No. Obviously not. Who can?)

I used to believe, year after year, that the heaviness of this month was down to everything I don’t have or everything I have yet to do, or, I don’t know, that I should be more grateful, more rested, more motivated or whatever, or that my creativity ought to feel easier as the year wound down. It often feels slower, less responsive, as though I need all the energy in the world to show up at all.

Yeah, December can carry a particular kind of pressure. Even when your life seems okay, you can feel this background hum of comparison. Other people’s milestones and families, other people’s versions of what the seasonal holidays are meant to look like. It’s easy to start measuring yourself against some invisible master checklist and coming up short. Even if you’re fine with where, who and how you are. Even then.

When all that’s happening, thinking takes way more effort. Everything feels a bit tougher to hold. Now I'm learning to pay attention to that feeling instead of arguing with it. In the past few years, December has become less about trying to rest, shutting everything off like we are told, racing to the nearest friendsgathering for wine and song,

and more about figuring out what rest and merriment actually mean for me. That’s a quieter process right now, less glittery or aspirational. It involves noticing what drains me and what steadies me, then adjusting.

Creativity sits here too, in its own “don’t force it” space. Let it be stranger, deeper. I permit myself to make small, fun things or to pause between immediately producing. When I stop pushing for output, ideas usually return on their own. I think a massive part of that is being choosier about what I take in. (I was going to say “reducing”, but this is December, so I’m not sure that’s it — I’m listening to a lot more music, watching more films, and niche longform YouTubes.) So.

I think I’m talking about engaging in fewer conversations that pull me off-centre. Many people I know are feeling extra terse, judgy and negative at the moment for reasons I can well understand. Still, I’m having to do the whole oxygen-mask thing (which is apt, though I obviously judge myself for using that phrase here).

And, oh, less scrolling and more time letting thoughts unfold without interruption. That blessed space changes the quality of your attention and brings your own voice back into focus.

The birds are singing a chorus outside my window. It’s 06.51 am.

I’ve had to be honest about my life too, about money, energy, capacity, health, what I can realistically hold at any given moment. December is a lot; this dark and shining month can really exaggerate gaps between where you are and where you thought you’d be. It helps me a lot to meet that gap clear-eyed, to see life as it actually is, rather than as some existential comparison exercise.

All this has totally shifted how I think about the holidays (thank God!) I don’t treat them as this fixed idea anymore and instead let them be shaped by what’s True Right Now. Some years, it’s been about rebuilding after a difficult stretch. This year, it’s about steadiness, pleasure, curiosity and making space for what is new. There’s all this messaging, all these roll-your-eyes slogans about ending the year strong, starting the next one fresh, primed for reinvention, and as a chronic self-improver, I understand the appeal. I also know that for many people, December is about survival, staying awake inside your own life.

Slower periods carry their own pale neon intelligence. They show you where your attention has been stretched thin. Yeah, they’re pleading with you to listen more closely, asking you to work differently, not harder. Letting creativity move through you and surprise you. Getting light, dirty and wild with it. Letting the season be what it is. Clue: Whatever you want.