the space between

december is always a bittersweet month for me. i find myself struggling to tie up all the loose ends before closing out the year and moving on to the next. it’s a time for reflection and inventory and a sprinkling of hope that the next year might be at least as good as this one.

the days between christmas and new years are the worst — curiously anticlimactic and yet oddly anticipatory. everyone seems to breeze through the days at a hurried pace, rushing to get to the new year — there, everything will be shiny and fresh and untouched; there, we can start again, with a spring in our step and a freshly cleansed palate.

and there, we realize, as we have before, that the new year is really just like the old one — that nothing is ever erased or forgotten; that we are the sum of all our days, no matter how important or ordinary.

i have trouble with these in-between days — something always feels a bit off, and i’m coming to understand that it’s because i’m expecting something from the new year that i know will never really come. so i try to find some balance in the mix, to temper the lows with the highs, the goodbyes with the hellos, and the introspection with a little reckless abandon.

this december is no different. sure, there is work to be done, there are goodbyes to be said, and there are resolutions to be reached, but the wheels are already turning. the annual cleanse is beginning and i know that there are always a few golden moments of peace waiting for me just before the dawn.

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