December has a way of piling up.
If it's feeling like too much right now, you're in good company.
For the next six minutes, nobody needs anything from you.
The wrapping and the messages can wait.
Sit back or lie down.
Let whatever's holding you take a bit more of your weight.
Close your eyes when you're ready.
Breathe in slowly through your nose...
And let it out with a sigh.
A real one.
Let it be loud if you want.
Again.
In...
And out, slower this time.
Let's be honest about what's You heavy.
don't have to fix any of it.
Just name it.
Maybe it's the list.
The gifts, the food, the cards you meant to send in November.
Maybe it's money.
The quiet maths running in the back of your head every time you open
your banking app.
Maybe it's people.
The family dinner.
The one relative.
Or missing someone who won't be at the table this year.
Whatever came up, just say it to yourself.
"That's heavy."
Then let your breath move around it for a moment.
Somewhere along the way, the holidays picked up this idea that they have to
be perfect.
Like a film.
They don't.
Honestly, most of the good holiday memories people keep are the messy ones.
The burnt potatoes.
The game that went wrong.
And the people you love will mostly remember whether you were there, and whether
you seemed alright.
Not the napkins.
So let the picture in your head loosen a little.
The day can be ordinary and still be good.
Now picture yourself somewhere warm.
A chair near a fire, maybe.
Snow falling slowly outside a window.
Feel the heat on your hands and your face.
Your feet getting warm.
You can hear the wood settle and crack now and then, and outside everything
is muffled by the snow.
Nobody knows where you are right now.
For a few minutes, that's a good thing.
You're allowed to rest, even now.
Even with things undone.
Rest doesn't until have to wait everything is finished, because in December it never
is.
Let your jaw soften.
Let your shoulders drop another inch.
If your mind keeps sneaking back to the list, that's alright.
Notice it, and come back to the fire.
Here's something small and useful.
Think of one thing on your list you could drop, or hand to someone
else.
It can be A store-bought dessert instead of the homemade one.
Asking your brother to bring the drinks this year.
You might hear a little voice saying, "But it has to be me."
It usually doesn't.
People are often glad to be asked.
Pick one.
Just one.
And imagine it lifting off your shoulders, like putting down a shopping heavy bag
after a long walk home.
Notice how much lighter even one fewer thing feels.
Say this quietly to yourself.
I am doing enough.
And once more.
I am doing enough.
Stay here a little longer by the fire.
There's nothing to wrap in here.
Whatever the rest of this December brings, you can come back to this quiet
any place time you need a few minutes.
Okay.
Let's come back gently.
Wiggle your fingers and toes.
Roll your shoulders.
Take one slow, full breath.
Open your eyes when you're ready.
The list is still out there,
a bit shorter now.
Go easy on yourself this month.