December
The present, the past, and what comes next.
It’s New Year’s Eve, 2023 is drawing to a close, and here at Chez Kizzia we’re about to put on our pyjamas and see in 2024 with a pack of cards, some parlour games1, and a bottle of good fizz.
It’s been a small, quiet, almost serene Midwinter and Christmas. We focused on making our celebrations fit what we needed - calm, inexpensive, restorative - rather than trying to recreate Christmases past or follow traditions for the sake of them and we’ve had a wonderful time because of it.
I’m not very good at relaxing2 but I’ve found a level of chill that I didn’t know I was capable of and spent several days of what we appear to now be calling Twixtmas just being, as far as that is possible when you can’t just put caring duties down because you’d like a break.
Normally I use these few days to plan the year ahead, scheduling and making lists like my life depends on it, but this year I just … haven’t. Part of that is down to already having a reasonably detailed route map of what needs to be done and when for the house sale and subsequent moves but that’s not all of it. For as long as I can remember I’ve used the holiday season to analyse the year just gone in terms of writing and crafting and any other personal goals; looking at what I achieved, where I failed, then deciding what I wanted to keep doing, what I wanted to ditch, and setting new targets. It was something that I felt had to be completed - the new goals set in stone and planned out - before the new year arrived. Not resolutions (haven’t done those in years) but a scaffold of challenges on which to build.
This year, though, I’ve hit every single goal I set for myself apart from one3. I honestly can’t remember the last time that happened and, especially given how difficult I found the middle of this year, rather than make me want to set new challenges immediately it’s made me want to take some time out. Time to both find a way to celebrate what I accomplished4 and to really think about what I want out of next year and how that does (or doesn’t) dovetail with what I’m going to need given how busy the year is going to be.
So I’m doing just that, giving myself space and time to just acknowledge where I am and where I’ve been, not forcing myself to make decisions just because of an arbitrary date on the calendar. As for the thinking, well I’m not doing anything formal, just using my daily journalling practice to noodle about with questions like:
What did I enjoy most last year?
How do I want to mark my achievements?
Did they all matter as much as I thought they would?
What sparked my interest during the year that I didn’t have time to investigate?
Is there something specific I’d like to learn or work towards?
What does contentment look like for me at this time?
What matters most to me at the moment?
I haven’t finished answering any of them so right now I have no idea what comes next. I don’t know what 2024 looks like in terms of blogging and newsletters and fiction writing and crafting. I just know that I’m going to feel my way into the new year gently and quietly and carefully and open myself to the possibility that I might be able to do more by planning less.
December’s blogging, however, went entirely according to plan so I have the following to share with you:
Worth More Than Gold (the last in my Flashes of Feathers short story series).
I do still have one more bonus story for the Flashes of Feather’s series to post in the new year, and there will be a newsletter at the end of January, but other than that I make no promises about anything.
Obviously I couldn’t end the newsletter without the promised tarot card to give an idea of what January might bring and, as you’ve probably come to expect, my Wildwood deck is once again being deeply literal:
Just as one small spark can be carefully kindled into a roaring fire with time, patience and the right tools, so can new skills help us brighten our lives, warm our hearts, and sharpen out minds as we learn them. This is the month to make the time and space to nurture something new, or build on foundations we’ve already laid, to expand our internal horizons.
And finally, I leave you with a wish:
May 2024 hold the seeds of hope and peace
and may we all find ways to nurture then for the benefit of all.
Take care lovely people, have courage, and be kind.
Currently we’ll be playing gin rummy, charades, twenty questions, and that game where you put post it notes on each other’s foreheads and you have to guess whose name is written on your own. We know how to have fun!
I know, I know, but I am working on getting better at it with my therapist.
Which was drafting the Arthurian novel and considering I made a conscious decision to set that goal aside in the first half of the year I’m not sure it counts as a failure.
Something else I find hard (who would have guessed).