One of my favourite parts of a yoga class is the beginning.

Coming in, finding a space, sitting down, and then lying down – the lovely feeling that there is nowhere else to be, nothing else to do.

My back takes a breath, my body relaxes, the snow globe of my mind settles and clears. All in the space of a few minutes!

A simple act, that feels like it shouldn’t do much, but seems to work magic on me.

So now I do this more often.

I started knitting when my first child was born, lucky to be patiently taught by a lovely older lady in a local shop.

It was super fun to make cute, small things and I found it creative and relaxing.

Over time it became less fun. As my children got bigger so did the projects, and then (when no one wanted to wear my knitting anymore!) I thought I should challenge myself with 4 needle socks in the round…

I haven’t knitted since - I took something I wanted to do and I set too big, too hard a goal. I took the joy and the sense of creativity and achievement out of it.

Until now. One ball of wool + the simplest, easiest pattern they had in the shop. Starting with something I want to do and can do :-)

It’s also how I’m approaching this year.

Mine is this picture.

In a cosy chair, in a lovely cafe, with a delicious coffee and some spaciousness - to write, to read, to reflect - to pause before I get back to work and life.

It’s also yin yoga, and a great book, or a jigsaw puzzle, or walk in the fresh air with a podcast, a dog, and/or a companion.

In the last couple of years, it’s even been a night away just for me - to be in my own space, to follow my energy, without being in charge of anyone except me.

It’s useful to know that these things help restore my energy levels, so I can have them as a menu to choose from when I need them.

Otherwise, when I’m tired, it’s too easy to slip into activities that feel like a break but don’t actually do me any good.

(Of course, sometimes I still do this anyway, we’re all a work in progress!).

Every December I pause and gather the threads of my year.

It’s a lovely ritual, and I’m noticing I start earlier and earlier - maybe because the rush of Christmas can quickly give way to ‘back to work’, or because it feels so dark so early, or simply because it’s a nice thing to do.

It’s absolutely not about looking ahead yet, or creating goals or resolutions - it’s about looking back to see the journey.

In previous years I’ve focused a lot on finding the story of it - looking fully at the ups, the downs, the learning, the insights, the implications.

This year I’m appreciating how powerful it is to simply look back and see what happened, from the start to right now.

So much happens each day, but it’s easy to lose track of how it all adds up when we’re in it.

When I look back at my career timeline it looks seamless.

I’ve transitioned between different companies, industries, roles, labels, ways of working - and I can clearly see the thread that links them.

At the time? At each of those crossroads? Not so much!

At each of those points I was full of confusion. It’s a tricky time. Knowing that something has come to an end, but not what will start up next.

What I did know was what I didn’t want.