Rest as Renewal: Closing the Year with Intention

Whew, chile — we did it. We’ve made it to the last month of the year. December carries so much with it: holiday time, renewal time, and here in Minnesota, the snow and cold that come earlier and settle deeper than most places. Even that has its purpose — a reminder to slow down, to wind down, to reflect on what we want and where we’re going. The true meaning of winter thaw is rest before renewal.

This year has stretched me and blessed me. I’ve had the gift of working alongside so many of you — in trainings, in reflective practice spaces, in speaking and consulting — while also doing my own deep work. I’ve shared my new books and card decks out in the world, spent time vending and connecting in community, and continued to walk in the calling of unapologetic healing. For all of it — the people, the lessons, the opportunities, the growth — I’m grateful.

December always feels like both an ending and a beginning. We feel the pull to wrap things up, to finish strong, to tie everything in a neat bow before the year closes. But what if this season wasn’t about doing more — what if it was about resting more deeply?

Rest is not laziness. Rest is renewal. Rest is what makes space for reflection, clarity, and vision. Without rest, we carry exhaustion into the new year. With rest, we cross the threshold grounded and restored.

This season often pushes us into overdrive — more gatherings, more obligations, more hustle. But what if we let December be a time to pause instead? To honor what we’ve already given, to celebrate how far we’ve come, and to make room for the seeds we want to plant in the new year.

Here are some reflections for this season:

  • Where do I need to say no so I can create space for rest?

  • What practices bring me back to stillness and peace?

  • How can I carry renewal into the new year, instead of only resolutions?

Rest doesn’t mean disconnecting from life. It means reconnecting to yourself. It’s the exhale that makes room for the next inhale. It’s the silence that prepares you for your next song.

So as December unfolds, I hope you give yourself permission to rest. To celebrate what this year has held. To honor the work you’ve done — for yourself, with others, and within community. And to step into the next chapter not from burnout, but from peace, joy, and renewal.

From my heart to yours — thank you for walking this journey with me. Wishing you peace, love, light, and the happiest of holidays.

Next
Next

Gratitude as Resistance: Choosing Joy in a Demanding World