Typically, I'm not fond of the time between Christmas and the first week of January. It's a strange in-between, a sort of no man's land where syncing with the world and aligning with oneself always feels challenging. It’s an ungrateful period where I measure myself against the world. What have I done for the past 365 days? Have I eaten well? Did I work out enough? Did I write about everything that moved me, or have I stretched myself too thin? Could I have done more? Why did I send that text? Why didn’t I send that text?
A few days ago, on December 31st, as the year drew to a close, I wrote: "Today marks the final chapter of the year, a day full of potential. In years past, this day was often filled with reflections on personal missteps, thoughts of missed opportunities, and resolutions that tended to fade within weeks. You wished for better health, more exercise, that dream job, a love story, fewer regrettable texts, and maybe some hard cash. But today, the true measure of the past 36…
