01/12/2025
Love this, quietly embracing the crazy season, putting in stillness and letting go of what no longer serves ❤️♥️
What I Do Before the Rush of December Finds Me
Even while the people around me are already excited.. opening doors on calendars, finding tiny chocolates and little surprises, counting down with bright eyes.. I start my first of December quietly.
Before the day even properly begins, before the lists, before the noise, before the world wakes up fully, I do my cinnamon ritual. I stand at the doorway, still soft from sleep, and I blow cinnamon gently into the house. Not because I think it will fix everything. Not because I’m trying to force abundance or miracles. I do it because it feels like greeting the month at the threshold and whispering, We’re stepping into December now. Please be kind to us.
Then I let the month arrive slowly.
I don’t make it loud.
I don’t make it busy.
I don’t make it a performance.
I open December quietly. I notice the light when it comes through the window. I make a proper hot drink and actually sit with it instead of carrying it around the house letting it go cold.
And somewhere in the middle of the day, usually without ceremony, December touches that tender place in me. The remembering. The missing. The soft ache that lives alongside the magic for so many of us. I let it be there. I don’t rush to cover it with forced cheer. I remind myself that it’s allowed to be gentle and heavy and grateful all at once. That making it this far through the year is its own quiet kind of triumph.
I know that over the next few weeks it will get louder. I know I may get pulled into what is expected.. into the rush, the noise, the roles. But today, on this first quiet day, I promise myself that I will keep returning to what grounds me. That I will make space for small rituals that hold me steady and keep December real to me, not just something I feel pressured to present.
At some point, I open a window for a few minutes and let the air change, let the house breathe with me, let whatever has settled too deeply have a way to move.
Later, when it gets dark, I light a single candle by the door. Not for big intentions. Not for manifesting a new version of myself. Just to mark the moment. Just to say, We’re here. We made it into another December.
I don’t ask the month for miracles.
I ask it for warmth.
For steadiness.
For enough strength to carry what I’m already holding.
I don’t plan the whole season. I don’t rush into sparkle. I let December arrive before I decorate it.
And before bed, I check in with myself quietly. What am I tired of carrying? What can wait until January? What actually matters this month?
That’s my magic of the first. Cinnamon. Quiet. Honest. No performance. Just presence.
Jen x💕