22/12/2025
As 2025 draws to a close, I'm aware of the wheel of time slowly but surely turning.
It brings up an appreciation of life and a sort of melancholic nostalgia to the surface. Certain chapters of my life have ended and won't be experienced again and certain chapters have yet to arrive.
There is much to appreciate from the past, and much to feel quietly hopeful about for the future.
For now, I get to close the laptop, close down parts of my brain, close the doors to the studio for three weeks, and simply be where I am.
There is such a sigh of relief in this - a lightness and freedom that comes from surrendering to the moment, and letting everything go.
I hope in some micro moment, you feel that sense of freedom, even just once, over the holidays too.
This year - as every year does - had it's own special flavour. For me 2025 felt like this sweetness amongst the hard times, perhaps reminiscent of a rose bush, with it's sweet scents, beautiful folds, and a few sharp thorns to remind you that Life is precious, fleeting and holds her own timing and mystery.
I've learned that I can only truly understand Life/ natureโs mystery if Iโm quiet enough, boundaried enough, and still enough.
This year repeatedly reminded me that my work is not about 'fixing' myself (even though that is very much my reflex), nor is it about pushing forward (confusing, because we are told this all the time).
Itโs about learning how to stay present with what is occurring in any given moment, exactly as it is.
I do my best work when I get very still and attuned. Not when I am trying to fix or push forward. If I do this, I miss the magic and mystery of space doing it's own thing. I get in the way.
Getting out of the way - mine, and others - is an ongoing process and I can't say I am winning, but I sure am learning.
Below is a picture of what taught me the most about being this year: My garden. The poppies I planted that I had given up on, and thought were never going to bloom. Well, they sure had a different idea. This is the heart of the Being Way. It's breathing in the name.
Thank you to my friend Susan Pearl for the poppy seeds ๐
When I reflect on this year, I also feel full of gratitude when I think of the people I worked with - whether as clients or collaborators.
To my clients: your courage in meeting yourselves, and saying things out loud, sometimes for the very first time, moved me, sometimes to such a deep place of feeling that it took me some effort to hold my emotion in.
Your willingness to step over the threshold and talk in a new way, to express, to feel, and to meet yourself with honesty and tender care is not to be taken lightly. It is big work, and it's work for the brave.
As we move towards the end of the year, I want to leave you with this:
Let this year be what it was, and slowly but surely, the book of 2025 will close itself all on it's own. Eventually your shoulders will drop, and your breath will reach your stomach, and a new drop of something - whether it's excitement, a new awareness or inspiration or a new connection - will land in it's most perfectly formed timing.
That's what I learned this year: To trust in the unseen, to have faith it's all working out. And that there is so much more happening beneath the surface. Even if it feels confusing or like the end.
Thank you so much for being a significant part of this space, whether you are here as a supporter, a client, a friend, or a peer, or all of the above!
It brings me that same sweetness I spoke about earlier to share this space with you.
Thank you again.
Love,
Bree
