As the year draws to a close, I find myself thinking less about achievements and more about capacity. About how much this year has asked of us — emotionally, mentally, quietly. Life doesn’t always slow down just because the calendar says it should, and many of us arrive at Christmas more tired than festive.
This season can feel heavy. Joy and grief often sit side by side. For some, Christmas is full of connection and laughter; for others, it’s quieter, lonelier, or simply different from what they imagined. All of it belongs.
Lately, I’ve noticed how easy it is to stay busy — to move from task to task without ever really stopping. Work, responsibilities, routines — they fill the days quickly. And without intention, rest becomes something we postpone instead of something we allow.
So as Christmas approaches, I’m choosing to slow down — not dramatically, not perfectly — but deliberately.
Be kind to yourself
Rest doesn’t need to be earned. Doing nothing is not a moral failure. Sometimes the most restorative thing we can do is pause — sit on the sofa, nap, watch something familiar, eat comfort food, breathe. Life will still be there when you return. You are allowed softness without guilt.
Stay connected, gently
Connection doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. A call, a message, a shared laugh over video, a quiet check-in — these small moments matter. If you’re feeling lonely, know that you’re not alone in that feeling. And if you have the capacity, reach out — and allow yourself to be reached, too.
Make room for simple joy
Joy doesn’t need permission, even in hard times. It’s okay to laugh, to enjoy yourself, to revisit rituals that comfort you. For me, that looks like slowing down with things that soothe my inner child — familiar films, quiet moments of remembrance, allowing myself to feel warmth without rushing past it. Joy can be gentle. It can coexist with memory and longing.
This Christmas, I’m not striving for perfection. I’m choosing presence. I’m choosing rest where I can, honesty where it’s needed, and compassion — especially for myself.
If this season feels tender for you, I hope you’re able to meet yourself with the same kindness. And if you’re struggling, please reach out — to someone you trust, or even here. We are not meant to carry everything alone.
Wishing you a Christmas that meets you exactly where you are.
Let’s continue to slow down, soften, and effect change — by how we care for ourselves and each other.
Koya Nkrumah 