Where the Season Soften

Finding Calm, Meaning, and Our Own Rhythm Through the Holidays

As we move through this season, I want to take a moment to slow things down.

Not to rush past the noise of the holidays as we wind them down and prepare for a new year, but to gently reflect on how this time of year has shaped us. How we have experienced it. How we have carried it. And how we might choose to meet it differently moving forward.

This reflection isn’t about doing more.

It’s about being present and honoring our energy. It’s about recognizing that both the magic and the weight can live side by side during this time of year.

Whether this season feels joyful, heavy, quiet, complicated, or all of the above, you are welcome here exactly as you are.

Before we go any further, take a slow breath with me.

Wherever you are, allow yourself to arrive. This is your invitation to slow down, listen inward, remember what matters, and walk gently into this space.

Slowing Down When Everything Feels Loud

The last several weeks have been full. Busy, chaotic, emotionally layered. Between work, responsibilities, and the natural intensity that tends to build around the holidays, I found myself needing to pause.

So I gave myself permission to slow down.

Not to stop completely, but to take a breath. To gather myself. To sit with the emotions that surfaced unexpectedly when the noise finally quieted.

I journaled.

I rested.

I cried a little.

And I gave myself the space I needed.

It isn’t always easy to show up for ourselves when we’re wrapped in expectations and responsibilities. But one thing I’ve learned is that we do have a choice. We get to choose how we show up for ourselves, and whether we continue carrying the excuses that keep us from honoring what we actually need.

So many of us are willing to work endlessly for the dreams of others. For the paycheck. For the structure. For the safety. And at some point, I had to ask myself: for what?

Why was I pouring so much of myself into places that drained my energy, and not into myself and my own dreams?

I was giving everything during the day, staring at a screen for hours, then wondering why I had nothing left for myself in the evenings. That realization mattered. Because if I wanted something different, I had to start somewhere.

So I shifted the energy.

Not perfectly. Not all at once. But intentionally.

I’m still giving my best where I need to, but I’m also giving more back to myself. And somehow, in doing that, I’ve found ways to quiet the noise of doubt, fear, and excuses, and show up in a more grounded, intentional way.

I used to feel guilty for slowing down, like I was letting others down. But what I was really doing was letting myself down, over and over, by not honoring what I needed.

Taking this pause brought clarity. It brought steadiness. It helped me feel more present, more aligned, and more grounded in the direction I want to go.

And I know I’m not the only one navigating a pause like this.

So I’ll ask you gently:

How did you reconnect with yourself during the busyness of the holidays?

What moment helped you breathe a little deeper?

Anchoring Into Gratitude

With that reflection still open, I want to pause here. Not to move on too quickly, but to anchor into gratitude.

Wherever you are right now, take a few breaths. Let your attention rest on something you’re grateful for today. You might write it down. You might think it. You might simply feel it in your body.

There’s no right or wrong way to do this.

Today, I’m grateful for the conversations that remind me just how beautiful this season can be, especially the ones rooted in giving, presence, and meaningful time with the people we love.

The kind of conversations that don’t rush you.

The ones that feel warm and steady.

The ones that remind you you’re not walking alone.

What are you grateful for today?

As we move forward, let’s carry that sense of gratitude with us. Not as something we leave behind, but as something that quietly walks alongside us.

Christmas Through the Years

As the holidays wind down, I find myself reflecting on Christmas past, present, and future. It is a quiet nod to one of my favorite holiday traditions and stories.

Christmas has looked very different for me across the years.

For much of my life, it was chaotic, loud, rushed, and emotionally charged in ways I didn’t always understand at the time. But something shifted for me around 2016. Since then, I’ve been learning a new way of meeting this season. One that feels calmer, more intentional, and more respectful of my energy.

This year especially, that shift felt clear.

This Christmas was quiet. Easy. And honestly, I loved it.

I didn’t overextend myself.

I didn’t push past my limits.

I paid attention to my energy and stayed within it.

We spent a few gentle days with family, eating good food, playing games, and having thoughtful conversations that remind you what really matters. I found myself thinking, this is Christmas now. Different from how I grew up. Different from when my kids were young. But a rhythm I truly enjoy.

Remembering the Magic

To understand where I am now, it helps to look back at where I started.

For many years, I focused on the harder parts of the holidays. But this year, something shifted, and I found myself remembering the magic, and the effort behind it.

I remembered waking up on Christmas morning and being told to wait before entering the living room. The anticipation felt endless. My dad would light the fire, turn on the tree lights, start the music, and only then would we be allowed to see what awaited us.

I remembered a Christmas scavenger hunt that ended with a surprise trip to Disneyland. Trips up the coast to Monterey. The Lone Cypress Tree. Gifts like a keyboard, a Discman with country CDs, a Teddy Ruxpin, a Cabbage Patch doll.

What I understand now, and didn’t then, is how much my parents gave us because they had grown up with so little. They did everything they could to make the holidays magical for us. And I carry deep gratitude for that.

Thank you, Mom and Dad.

I also remember the chaos and laughter of extended family gatherings. Cousins running wild, adults gathered around the table, my grandma cooking, my grandpa teasing, the left-right game echoing with laughter.

I miss the laughter.

Not the rushing, but the togetherness.

When Expectations Grow Heavy

As life expanded, so did the expectations.

Marriage. Kids. Multiple families. Multiple homes. Endless obligations.

I was a people pleaser then. I said yes when I wanted to say no. I pushed myself past exhaustion. After divorce, holidays became even more complicated. Long travel, couch surfing, constant movement.

The kids were champs. Truly. But I could see how tired they were. And sometimes, I wondered if all of it was worth the cost.

Then came 2016.

For the first time, I had nowhere to be. I was sick that Christmas morning, ended up at urgent care, then came home, stayed in bed, watched movies, took naps, and ordered sushi.

And it changed everything.

That was the Christmas I realized: holidays could be calm. They could be simple. They could be mine.

Creating Our Own Traditions

From there, I began reimagining what the holidays could look like.

Not rejecting tradition, but reshaping it.

We named a star. Took beach trips. Created moments instead of focusing on things. As the kids got older, gifts became playful, creative, experience-based. Money cakes, punch-out boards, shared laughter.

Now that my kids are adults, Christmas looks different again. Stockings. Games. Shared meals. Giving back. Experiences over expectations.

And I’ve made one thing very clear to them. When they have families of their own, there will be no pressure. We’ll celebrate when it works. Connection matters more than the calendar.

Holding Space for All Experiences

I want to say this gently, because it matters.

The holidays are not easy for everyone.

Some people are grieving.

Some are estranged.

Some sit quietly with loneliness or trauma.

Some don’t celebrate at all.

If this season feels heavy for you, you are not doing it wrong. There is no one right way to move through the holidays.

My hope, for myself and for you, is that we listen inward. Honor our boundaries. Say no when we need to. Choose presence over pressure.

The holidays don’t need to be about doing more.

They can be about doing what feels right.

Honoring the Quiet Magic Makers

Before closing, I want to honor the people who carry the quiet magic of the season.

The ones who plan, prep, cook, and clean.

The ones who decorate and create warmth.

The ones who keep wonder alive, even when they’re exhausted.

This is for the moms and the dads. The grandmas and grandpas. The caregivers and quiet supporters.

You don’t owe the holidays perfection.

Your effort matters.

Your presence is the magic.

Letting the Season Soften

As we come to the end of this reflection, I hope you feel a little permission. Permission to slow down, to soften, and to honor what this season truly feels like for you.

The holidays don’t have to look a certain way to be meaningful.

They don’t have to be loud to be full.

They don’t have to be perfect to be enough.

Whatever you’re carrying, joy, grief, exhaustion, gratitude, your experience matters.

So move gently.

Honor your boundaries.

Hold space for yourself and for others.

Just breathe, and remember to find your Way2Vyb.

With Love and gratitude,

Amber

If you’d like to share your Way2Vyb or your gratitude, you can submit it on the Contact Page.

Thank you for being here.

Thank you for walking this path with me.