The first week of January is always my favourite time of the year. The pace is slow and deep, like paste. I can feel the whirling of the new year getting closer, bringing anticipation, dread and hope all at once. It's a time when I let my feet sink in the ground and ask myself: What did I learn? What was imprinted on me? Who helped my world widen? What energy do I need to cultivate in the year ahead?
The art of reflection
The art of reflection
The art of reflection
The first week of January is always my favourite time of the year. The pace is slow and deep, like paste. I can feel the whirling of the new year getting closer, bringing anticipation, dread and hope all at once. It's a time when I let my feet sink in the ground and ask myself: What did I learn? What was imprinted on me? Who helped my world widen? What energy do I need to cultivate in the year ahead?