A Pause at the Threshold

Entering a room during the holiday season—arms full of gifts and goodies, hearts full of expectations and good intentions—is no simple matter.

We work hard to get it all together: hair, attire, a smile in place. But what we carry beneath the surface sometimes comes with us too. Exhaustion—not only from holiday preparations, but from day-to-day demands, caregiving burdens, and things we rarely speak about. Or sadness and grief from lost loved ones, lost opportunities, and unexpected changes.

Holidays invite us into a world we don’t inhabit every day. That alone can leave us feeling out of sync, a little out of step with ourselves. Beneath the surface, we may quietly wonder where we fit in the landscape we’ve entered as we move between roles and environments—often carrying old roles and a complicated history with us. Once daughter, sister, mother; now grandmother, mother-in-law, divorced, widowed.

Keeping it together in the midst of all this is no small feat. It requires a steady kind of self-regulation just to meet our inner expectations—often shaped by a quiet longing for things to go smoothly, or even perfectly.

What if, just for a moment or two before entering the day or the gathering, we paused? Not to fix or prepare, but simply to be present to ourselves. This doesn’t require mental gymnastics or mantras. It can be as simple as five minutes in a place that feels safe—outdoors if the weather allows, or in a comfortable chair in a room that holds echoes of your better moments—sitting quietly, listening to the rhythm of your breath, the wind, or the distant hum of traffic.

Just breathing in the essence of life as it is.

Quiet self-honoring is sometimes the most radical act.

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