A quieter way to begin the new year

As this year comes to a close, I’ve found myself slowing down more than usual.

Not in a dramatic way — just noticing how my body feels at the edges of the year. The tiredness that doesn’t come from one long day, but from many months of holding things together. The mix of relief and reflection that seems to arrive once the calendar starts to thin out.

I know I’m not alone in this.

Every year around this time, I hear from women who feel a quiet pressure to do something with the new year — to plan better, be clearer, feel more motivated. And yet, when they stop and check in honestly, what they feel instead is fatigue, or uncertainty, or a sense of being a little disconnected from themselves.

If that’s you, I want you to know there is nothing wrong with that.

From the perspective of the nervous system, it makes sense. December often asks a lot of us — emotionally, mentally, energetically. January arrives quickly, but our bodies don’t always arrive with it at the same pace.

I’m not interested in starting this year by pushing you forward.
I’d much rather invite you to pause.

Before you decide what you want from the year ahead, it can be quietly powerful to ask:
How am I actually arriving here?

Not how you think you should feel.
Not how you present to the world.
But what’s true underneath.

Some women notice a dull exhaustion.
Some notice restlessness or impatience.
Some feel capable and functional, but strangely flat.

None of these need fixing.
They’re information.

So this week, instead of setting intentions or resolutions, I’d love to offer you something simpler.

A small reflection

Find a quiet moment — even a few minutes is enough — and ask yourself:

What has this year asked of me… and what has it quietly taught me?

You don’t need to write anything down unless you want to.
You don’t need clarity yet.
Just notice what comes up.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing gentle ways to help you make sense of what you begin to notice — patterns, rhythms, places you may have been living on autopilot, and ways to reconnect more deeply with yourself.

But for now, let this be enough.

A softer beginning.
A truer one.

With warmth,
Kate 🪷

P.S.
If you find yourself recognising familiar patterns in how you’ve been coping or showing up, I’ll be talking more about that next week — not as labels, but as a way of putting kind language around what’s been happening beneath the surface.