In-Between Days

I am Here. Or There. Or Elsewhere.

Welcome to the weird hinterland between Christmas and New Year. A time when meals disappear into the ether, replaced by all-day grazing on twiglets, cheese and chocolate, a time when having a glass of something alcoholic at half eleven in the morning seems totally acceptable, a time when you’ve no idea what day it is or whether anything is open. A “mind the gap” moment between the departing and the incoming year.

As good a time as any for reflecting on the year that has passed, and setting intentions for the one that is about to appear. I don’t do New Years Resolutions (too firm and permanent), nor visionary mood boards (far too crafty, although I do love a post it note and a coloured pen).

I prefer to properly woo woo things up with an actual ritual. Come, join me!

The best one for right now is the pilgrimage of “In the End is the Beginning”. Or “In my beginning is my end” if you prefer a bit of T.S.Eliot. This ritual helps you to make peace with whatever is unfolding in your life, reminds you that the journey itself shapes you, and re-centres you in the simple fact that all you have to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other. To do it properly you’ll need fresh air, walking boots and stones (as a minimum). Burning sage, offerings, ancestral spirit guides and rose petals all welcome if you want to be more full on ritually. Isla’s book is fabulous for this ritual and many others, and inspired my simplified version…

Clobber up appropriately, grab some stones and a sharpie, and find a nice circular route to walk. Start from somewhere meaningful for activity one, ideally include somewhere with water for activity two, and a high point with a good view for activity three. Give no shits about what anyone else might think of you. And you can of course celebrate at the end with a cuppa and a cake, or a glass of wine, so factor that in too.

Gratitude. This part I did barefoot in my garden - physically and emotionally grounding., if slightly chilly on the toes. Stand, breathe deeply, close your eyes and spend a bit of time being thankful for the year that has passed. Visualise the fabulous people, the lovely moments (big or small), feel the feelings. If you want to, you can write each thing down on a piece of paper, pop it into a jar, take each one out and read it to the sky. Sit with it all. Pray if that’s your thing. Then don your boots and start walking. As you walk, try to stay with the gratitude and the highlight reel of your year.

Burdens. Stop on your walk somewhere with a decent stretch of water. Take the stones and the sharpie from your pocket and on each stone, write something you need or want to let go of from the year, something you don’t want to take with you. An experience, a feeling, a relationship, whatever it is. Scribble away. Collect more stones or bits of old brick if needed. Then hurl them one by one into the water, shouting “farewell to…” or “f*ck you….” or whatever sweary or non-sweary words help you to fully release the burdens. Watch them satisfyingly sink into the murky depths. And stay there. Farewell to the burdens. Walk on.

Intentions. Towards the end of your route and ideally somewhere with a good view, or otherwise inspiring and nurturing. In this final act, there is a moment to set intentions for the new year. Screw all the SMART goals bollocks - no need for “I will lose three stone to get a Summer holiday bikini body” or “I must get promoted to director of suchdy such by October”. This is more about setting a general sense of purpose and direction, a few guiding principles to focus your energy, majoring on the inputs and the process. Whatever it is, you’ll know what is right for you - it’s more of a primordial, emotional brain activity, so let the limbic gang do the hard yards. Ponder them as you walk back to your starting point - sometimes the intentions percolate and grow a bit as you walk. When you get home, write them down. I pop them in the front of my diary so they’re there as my touchstone for the year. Here’s where I ended up…

The keen eyed amongst you will have noticed that I deliberately leave plenty of space on the page so that I can cross them out if I change my mind, or if the universe intervene - they’re intentions, not rules!

And of course if you can’t be arsed with the walking version of this ritual and/or worry what passers by might think of you as you swearily hurl stones into a lake, you can do a paper-based version from the comfort of your own sofa where you simply think through and write down the answers to these three questions.

• What am I grateful for in 2025?

• What burdens do I wish to leave behind?

• What intentions would I like to set for 2026?

So there you go, a three-step ritual to bid farewell to 2025 and greet 2026. And if you do the walking version, a good excuse to get some fresh air and gentle exercise on the in-between days.

Here’s to 2026 and whatever it may bring - see you on the other side!