Christmas falls on a Thursday this year. Which also happens to be the day my Substack essays go out.
I wanted to keep the rhythm going, so I scheduled this message last week. Not because I’ll be checking my inbox today (I won’t be. I’m switching off and leaning into the real-life part of things today with my little family of three), but because showing up each Thursday has become something I really enjoy. It keeps me connected. And if you’ve made a ritual of reading these emails too, I didn’t want to break that.
There’s no pressure to read it now. Come back with a full tummy on Boxing Day, or whenever it feels right. It’ll wait.
I started this Substack at a time of complete chaos. Carving out space to write each week became a life line. A way to untangle messy thoughts, dreams, questions. It helped me reconnect with community in a way I hadn’t in a long time. And it became something consistent in a year filled with unknowns.
Lately I’ve been wondering… can I find that same rhythm with making?
This year, I found my way back to making after a long stretch where it felt completely out of reach. And now I feel ready for the next step: making as a ritual. As a practice. Not just when inspiration strikes or when there’s a deadline - but regularly, with intention.
Maybe it’s a block of time once a week. Maybe it’s joining a sewing group. Maybe it’s getting up early one day a week to sew before the to-do list takes over. Or staying up late when the house is finally quiet. I’m not sure yet. These are the things I’ll be pondering over the break.
What are you pondering? What loose intentions are you hoping to bring into the new year (I prefer this term over goals… something softer, more flexible).
And if you don’t have space to think about anything right now, that’s okay too. This week can be a weird one. Equal parts chaos and stillness. Joy and overstimulation. A time that’s meant to feel like a break, but often comes with its own brand of pressure - to be cheerful, to feel a certain way, to squeeze in just a few more things before the year ends.
I’ve been thinking about what rest actually looks like. Not rest as a reward for being productive, but rest as a practice. Rest as something that doesn’t have to be earned.
So during this little pause before things ramp up again, I’m giving myself permission to do less. To stop pushing for outcomes. To play. I want to make things for no reason. Sew without a deadline. Get messy just because it feels good.
Not everything has to be useful or productive or optimised. Sometimes making something for the joy of it is enough. More than enough.
So that’s my wish for you too - whether today is joyful or complicated or somewhere in the middle. That you get a moment to exhale. To be in your body. I hope over this break you have some time to make something silly or sweet or small. Just for the fun of it.
And if you’re spending the day solo, or in a house that feels too full, or are navigating big feelings - know that you’re not alone in that. This season can hold a lot. You don’t have to fake your way through it.
Wishing you a slow, kind, creative end to the year.
It has been a pleasure and a gift getting to know you through these Thursday missives. Enjoy this special time with your family