Issue #9: Let’s wave adieu to 2022

The significance of the Twixmas pause – plus, details of our upcoming New Year's Eve Reflections online journalling session.

Isn’t it funny, what a difference a day or two can make? One moment, we’re caught up in the hysteria of the pre-Christmas countdown, Elf on repeat, at the mercy of a last-minute delivery slot. The next, we’ve got collective festive amnesia – like it was all a tinsel-y dream, its only remnants a rogue piece of metallic wrapping paper shredded up by the dog, a Tupperware of dried-out turkey or the yellow-stickered tins of tree-shaped shortbread in Tesco – or, perhaps, a tree in the naughty corner of your living room, haunting you like the ghost of Christmas past with its now-incongruous presence. It will, most likely, be a similar story with the much-hyped New Year’s Eve.

For me, there’s no time quite like the present. I consider the Twixmas period – so-called because it’s between (‘betwixt’) Christmas and New Year – to be special. Sacred, even. We’re in temporal no man’s land, and there’s a liberation in that. What date is it? What month is it? What day of the week? NOBODY KNOWS. And nobody cares, Brenda. Likely we’ve got a few days off work – or if we are working, we’re doing so half-heartedly. If we’ve any ‘New Year, New Me’ aspirations, we’ve scheduled them to begin January 1 and not a moment sooner. This is not the time for doing.

Eugene Lee Yang @EugeneLeeYang

These 6 days between Christmas and New Year's is the only time of year you should strive to do absolutely fucking nothing. Make zero progress. Take all the time off. Go on vacation from your vacation. Be the least impressive version of yourself. Transform into a couch.

In this pause between the ending of one year and the beginning of another, there’s an opportunity. OK, the calendar year itself is an arbitrary construct (we could just as easily celebrate, say, Chinese New Year on January 22nd 2023, Hindu New Year on March 22nd – or delay things entirely until Jewish New Year on September 15th). But the prevailing sense of ‘pause’, that annual period where the world-at-large shuts down for a bit, is real. And that pause creates a space for reflection, a chance to think about the past year and plan for the next one.

Pause for thought

The concept of pause crops up a lot across religion and spirituality. In Hebrew, the word ‘selah’ is, in practice, the moment of silence within music – i.e. in prayer. It’s rooted in a word that means ‘to weigh’ or ‘to measure’, and that’s interpreted as what we’re supposed to be doing during that time: reflecting on what’s being said. In meditation, the pause between breaths (between the inhale and exhale, or vice versa) is called ‘kumbhaka’ – and over time you observe this in the same way you do the more active parts of the breathing cycle. I wonder, too, if there’s a more secular appreciation for the ‘pause’ in the wake of lockdown, the Great Pause of 2020 and 2021 which caused so much individual and sociological change, for better and for worse.

Last year, I embraced the pause – and spent most of this period squirrelled away in a cafe doing ‘reflective journalling’ with a pot of Earl Grey and a giant slice of chocolate orange polenta cake (and yes, the latter was strictly necessary). Over the course of three successive afternoons, I reflected on the previous year – ‘What energised me?’, ‘Who did I enjoy spending time with?’, ‘What didn’t go as planned?’ – and then planned for the year ahead – ‘What would I like to make more time for? – literally writing the prompts out for myself and then answering them. I’ll be reviving this solo tradition over the next couple of days, beginning this afternoon, and I’d love for you to join me…

If you’re a paid subscriber, I’ve shared journalling prompt examples below, plus details of our upcoming Zoom session on New Year’s Eve which is an opportunity to do the same…

New Year’s Reflections

Like many, I’m suspicious of the New Year’s resolutions tradition (which, it’s worth adding, has zero spiritual or religious precedent). Not just because 80% of us ditch them by February; it’s fine to try things that don’t work out. My issue is how we come up with our resolutions in the first place. Often, it’s an immediate reaction to the previous few weeks (see the classic ‘I need to lose ten pounds’, aided by the debit/credit style marketing campaigns around Christmas indulgence and New Year fitness). Or else, it’s in that vague way that sets us up for inevitable failure 'travel more/get organised’. Basically, New Year’s Resolutions are a lot like our year-round ‘Shoulds’:

• They’ve vague

• They’re probably motivated by our external environment rather than our inner needs and desires

• They set us up for failure, and then we berate ourselves as a result

Also, New Year’s Day is a terrible time to implement change. As one year draws to a close, we procrastinate our hopes and dreams until we cross the threshold into the next, as if we’ll magically wake up a different person on January 1st – despite the overwhelming evidence that we’ll be a slightly hungover, socially jet-lagged version of the Same Old Selves. I remember standing on the platform at Farringdon one New Year’s Day morning a few years ago, chastising myself because I’d missed my train (‘I’ve f**ked this year up already…’, I told myself, as if a chilly, half-hour wait for the next Thameslink service dictated the tone of the forthcoming 364 days…).

What’s preferable, I find, is a period of ‘New Year’s Reflection’ – which involves leaning into the pause that we’re in right now; weighing up both what I want from the year ahead, and what I’ve learnt from the past year. Because, let’s face it, I’m not going to change my life on 1st January – nor will you. But I am excited about what insights the next couple of days off work might bring, and how honouring this pause for reflection might influence the year ahead.

New Year’s Eve: Guided journalling session

At 12pm midday this Saturday 31 December (ie New Year’s Eve), I’ll be running an online members-only guided journalling session for paid subscribers, via Zoom.

The 1-hour session will be based around ‘prompts’ to help you reflect on the past year, and set your intentions for the year ahead. I’ll also send out a recording afterwards, so you can catch up if you’re not free for the session itself.

I’ve included a link to join, plus further details, beyond the paywall – so make sure you’ve updated your subscription if you’re keen to take part.

If you’re not yet a paying subscriber, and you’re still on the fence, then this is your chance to sign up for a free 7-day trial. Think of it as a holiday romance – you can always unsubscribe at the end. I mean, ideally things will blossom and we’ll go the distance, but no offence taken either way. I’d just love as many of you as possible to be able to attend the session.

I hope to see you there. Either way, happy new year to you all, and thank you for supporting this newsletter. It’s worth mentioning that my two intentions for 2022 were to introduce more creativity and connection into my life. Creating this newsletter community, with The Shoulds, has been a gorgeous convergence of both – and it’s been a pleasure writing for you. Here’s to 2023.

Francesca