Hey gorgeous soul,
Before we begin,
Take a moment to find your soft place to land.
Maybe it's your favourite cosy armchair,
Stacked with more pillows than any human reasonably needs.
Or maybe you've slipped into a freshly made bed,
The kind with cool linen,
A comforting weight of blankets,
And the whisper of,
You can let go now.
Wherever you are,
Let your body be supported.
Let yourself be held,
By the cushions,
The mattress,
The stillness.
This is your space,
No performance,
No perfection,
Just presence.
Take a deep breath in through your nose,
And let it out through your mouth.
Deep breath,
In,
And out.
Now gently bring awareness to your heart.
Notice if it feels open or guarded,
Tender or tired.
No need to fix,
Just notice.
Now shift your attention to your head.
Thoughts may be swirling like tinsel in a snow globe,
That's okay.
Let them float without grabbing onto any single piece.
Now move down to your lungs.
Feel the rise and fall of each breath.
Notice,
Are you breathing shallow,
Deep?
Just observe.
And soften a little more.
Finally,
Drop into your gut,
Your center of instinct,
Courage,
And quiet knowing.
Is there a knot there,
A flutter,
Or a calm steadiness?
Whatever is present,
Welcome it,
Embrace it.
Let your breath anchor you as we begin to unravel the threads of this year.
Not to fix or force,
But to gently notice,
Honor,
And soften.
Let's take a journey together.
Imagine you're standing at the threshold of a large open room.
You take a few slow steps into the space.
Just inside the doorway,
There's a little woven basket with a sign that reads,
Drop your shoulds here.
You smile softly.
This is the place for all the mental clutter that's been whispering,
You didn't do enough.
You could have tried harder.
This wasn't the plan.
Gently,
You imagine gathering those thoughts like tangled fairy lights,
Noticing the ones that flicker with guilt,
Shame,
Or disappointment,
And placing them into the basket one by one.
No need to analyze,
Just release.
You hear them land softly,
Like crumpled paper,
And feel your shoulders drop just a little.
To your left,
Along a warm wooden wall,
Is a shelf labeled,
Things No One Else Saw.
Lined along it are the invisible winds of your year.
You move closer.
You see a tiny trophy that says,
Held a Boundary.
A Polaroid of you resting when the world said,
Hustle.
A glittery star labeled,
Got Out of Bed Even When It Felt Hard.
These aren't things you posted about.
They weren't liked,
Shared,
Or celebrated.
But they matter.
You run your fingers across them like treasured memories.
Let their quiet pride sink in.
You turn a corner and find a worn old suitcase.
It's open,
Waiting.
This is where you place what you no longer want to carry.
The stories,
The identities,
The outdated expectations.
Maybe it's a belief that's past its expiry date.
Maybe it's someone else's version of success you've been hauling like a carry-on that won't quite zip.
Visualize yourself unpacking these things.
Gently.
Kindly.
Fold them neatly if you like.
Whisper a thank you if that feels right.
Then place them in the suitcase.
Close the lid.
Let it be done.
There's a big armchair calling your name.
The kind you fall into like a trust fall.
It's draped in a patchwork quilt that smells like peppermint tea and freshly baked gingerbread.
You sink into it with a sigh that sounds like relief.
The chair is your quiet rebellion against the pressures to finish strong.
Here,
Strong looks like softness.
Here,
Strong is letting yourself stop.
You curl your feet underneath you.
Maybe even tuck a throw over your lap.
Breathe in.
Exhale.
Let your body know it's safe to stop striving.
You rise and walk toward the wide window that frames the world.
Outside the world is moving fast.
Bright.
Noisy.
Demanding.
But in here,
You're wrapped in stillness.
You catch your reflection in the glass.
It meets your gaze.
And a quiet voice within you says,
I will finish this year with kindness,
Not comparison.
You place a hand over your chest.
Feel the warmth.
Let that truth settle in your bones.
Now slowly make your way back to the centre of the room or wherever your heart feels most grounded.
Here,
You have nothing to fix.
Nothing to prove.
Just five minutes to simply be.
When you hear the soft sound of birds singing,
That will be your gentle signal to return when you're ready.
Until then,
Stay soft.
Stay still.
Stay with yourself.
