01/01/2026
I’ve been moving slowly lately—on purpose.
I’m letting winter be medicine instead of something to push through. Like a massage, it takes time to arrive. Our nervous systems don’t drop into rest on command; they soften when they feel safe enough to do so. Winter feels like that to me—an easing in, a long exhale.
And yet, we live inside systems that expect linear productivity year-round. Capitalism doesn’t honor cycles, but our bodies do. There is ancient wisdom in us that knows this is a time to rest, to grieve, to consume less, to listen more deeply.
I’ve been practicing honoring that wisdom—even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when every conditioned voice says “do more.” Some days, choosing myself looks like stillness. Some days it looks like saying no. Some days it looks like letting things be unfinished.
As we cross into a new calendar year, I don’t believe we fully begin again until spring. But I do believe this moment matters. A seed moment. A pause where we notice what’s fallen away and what we’re quietly longing to nurture when the light returns.
2025 asked a lot of us. The pace of the world was overwhelming. Many of us lived in states of freeze, grief, and information overload—trying to metabolize pain that was never meant to be carried alone. And still, there was courage. Integrity. Relationship. Joy that existed alongside heartbreak.
I feel myself stepping out of survival and into something slower and more sustainable—tending a life that is kinder to live in.
If you’re here too—questioning, resting, choosing yourself, sensing that something needs to be different—I want you to know:
I see you. I’m with you. You’re not behind.
Winter is still doing its work.
🤍
Link: exhaleyogaandwellness.com
