A Winter Pause

Gentle optimism for a new year

The slow and quiet days between Christmas and New Year are upon us, a liminal time of dreaming and resting as the darkness fully closes in around us and the winter air paints frosted ferns on the windows of my studio. I light candles and write in my journal. There’s a pile of books in the lounge by the sofa and I idly flick through them as the afternoon sun sinks behind the horizon, and the coloured fairy lights twinkle in the gathering dusk.

When I closed my studio for the holidays, I brought a collection of art supplies up to the house including a sketchbook, some paints and some crayons. I was determined that this Christmas would not be laced with urgency and panic, rushing madly around the overcrowded shops and then blearily making it through Christmas day with the dearest wish to sleep for several weeks, undisturbed. I wanted pockets of time to relax and be creative, to pick up a knitting or crochet project, to write and watch a film or two, and bake jam tarts and mince pies.

I kept my painting things out on the dining table until Christmas Eve, when I tidied them away so it could be laid for Christmas dinner the following day. I realised that I enjoyed having a pop up art space, where I could pass by and scribble a few lines, or sit for ten minutes and paint a glittering bauble or a wintery scene from my imagination. It gave me a sense of calm, and felt like the kindest of permission slips to gift myself these small moments.

I decided I’d like to carry on this feeing of calm and ease into the new year. No lists of big goals emerging here, no fabulous new resolutions, in fact all I’m taking into this new year is myself and a feeling of hope. I’ve bought a new planner (I like to use my ancient A5 jade leather Filofax), and in the next few days I’ll start to organise the coming months so that I don’t drift too far away from what I’d like to achieve.

This last year has been another challenging one for me and I’ve come to the end of it feeling quite weary. Yet, despite this, I’m also noticing something beyond the edges of the exhaustion; a subtle light energy stirring, and tiny ideas that seem to glimmer around the periphery of these short, dark days. For now it is enough to just sit with these delicious feelings, knowing that things will soon change and start happening…which leads me to this:

I was recently reading an article about the Chinese new year, and how 2025 has been a year of the Snake, a year for shedding things that no longer serve us, and letting go of the past. This next Chinese new year (which traditionally starts on 17th February, 2026) is the year of the Fire Horse, bringing with it a fresh energy and enthusiasm. It is seen as a transformative year where we can expect rapid progress and significant personal growth.

When I sit back and look over 2025, I can see that despite the difficulties and challenges, they have allowed me to grow in ways I wouldn’t have without them. I am a completely different person to the one who set out at the beginning of this year, and I’m ending it with such a deep sense of optimism and hope that I never imagined I would feel. It seems that the wisdom of the Chinese zodiac is onto something…

Wishing you a peaceful and tranquil new year, looking forward to sharing more here with you soon.

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With love and thanks,