Soft Season, Steady Heart
…and trying not to turn Christmas into a full-time job again.
You know that feeling when you're moving along just fine - into that busy, productive, juggling life like a pro, and then suddenly… everything feels like a lot? That’s been me lately. It’s sneaky, the way burnout creeps in. It starts with little things: I get irritated (very) easily. (I actually call it “getting crusty”!) My brain fogs up. Decision-making feels like doing long division in the dark.
Then I find myself searching for a “fix”: a supplement, a new holistic health appointment, a massage, a new notebook, something that promises to make me feel in control again. And before I know it, I’m staring blankly into the fridge with zero desire to cook, moving through my day like a very efficient, mildly annoyed robot who would happily disappear to a cabin with soup, a blanket, and no schedule for 48 hours.
That’s when I know it’s time to slow down and check in. My mom warned me in my 30s that I couldn’t live at full speed forever. Of course, I smiled and thought, Watch me. Turns out… Mom REALLY knows things. 😉
We women carry this deep internal script:
The more we do, the more worthy we are.
The busier we are, the stronger we must be.
Hustle is proof. Achievement is gold.
Until suddenly the body says, enough. Sit. Breathe. You don’t have to earn your rest.
November has a way of bringing that message home for me. The darker mornings, the quiet days, the last leaves letting go - nature whispers: Slow down before life forces you to.
(Photo: A slow Sunday morning view from our kitchen window.)
And honestly? With everything happening in the world, I need the quiet. I can be informed without being consumed. (My husband, Adam, watches the National News every single morning…) I can care deeply and still protect my nervous system. Compassion does not require collapse.
And when I make space - REAL space - gratitude finds me more easily. Not as something to perform, but as a gentle noticing:
Warm tea.
Quiet mornings.
Doing ordinary things with people I love.
Unrushed moments.
I am still someone who loves to work, create, build, and dream. I'm just learning I don't need to sprint through all of it (and I am a very slow learner!).
A Pause for Remembrance
And every November, before the holiday excitement really begins, we pause for something bigger than ourselves - Remembrance Day. It always brings me back to a quieter place inside.
A moment to slow down.
To really notice.
To feel grateful.
I think of those who served, and the families who loved them through it. I think about courage, sacrifice, and the kind of strength most of us will never have to know. And I’m reminded how blessed we are to live our everyday lives - to walk freely, raise our kids, sip our tea, and plan for what's next feeling safe and hopeful, even when the world feels a little uncertain.
Every year, it brings me right back to gratitude - for safety, for freedom, for the simple, everyday moments we get to live.
(Photo: A watercolour & crayon poppy by one of my daughter’s students. Lest we forget.)
Then… the Christmas switch flips 🎄
And then, almost overnight, something shifts. One minute I’m journaling about calm and inner peace, and the next I’m bringing up my 20 Christmas totes from the basement, Googling holiday concerts, decorating trends, mentally planning cozy gatherings, lighting candles, making lists, and suddenly reorganizing the pantry because holiday baking is coming.
Tell me I’m not alone? 😅
I always believe if I start early, I’ll be calm by mid-December. Every. Single. Year. And at this point even I laugh at myself. (I am literally chuckling!! 🤣)
But maybe this year I can actually pace myself. More presence, less pressure. Magic without burning out halfway through. Joy without turning into a one-woman holiday production crew.
A little more “sip the tea slowly,” a little less “check something off the list.” (And knowing me, I’ll probably still add five new things to the list, while creating six more lists about the lists—but at least I’ll be calmer while I do it.)
A Gentle Hope for This Season
Slow first. Sparkle second.
Soft joy instead of frantic festivity.
Presence over perfection.
I don’t want to arrive at the holidays worn out from trying to make it beautiful—I want to feel the beauty while I’m living it.
Wintering isn’t hiding. It’s honouring the rhythm. And this year, I’m choosing to soften before I shine.
A Gentle Moment for Reflection
Lately, I’ve been finding so much comfort in journaling. Honestly, I never thought I’d be that person (because pausing and actually checking in with myself? 😂 Who was doing that?!) But it’s been giving me joy, relief, peace, and a little clarity in a season that can so easily sweep us away.
If you feel called, here are a few questions to sit with, whether you journal, think on them during a walk, or just let them float around gently:
(Absolutely NO pressure, but I think once you get this little ritual into a habit, you will crave this way of ‘checking in’.)
- Where am I craving a slower pace right now?
- What truly fills me up in winter? What do I do out of habit, expectation, or pressure?
- How can I choose presence over productivity this month?
- What does soft joy look like to me?
- What can I gently release that won’t matter in five years… or even five days?
A slower November. A steadier heart. And maybe - just maybe - a calmer Christmas spirit, too. ✨
(Stay tuned for the full report of how this all went down in January’s blog! 🙏)
Lots of Love,
Marsha
