When the Lights Come Down

and letting the new year unfold

Heart-to-Heart Wise is your bi-monthly cuppa for the soul. Through personal stories, nostalgic moments and hard earned wisdom, it will help you slow down, tune in, and connect with life’s quiet stirrings. Best enjoyed with a pot of Yorkshire Gold tea and a moment to yourself.

Just a quick note to thank YOU, my subscribers, for reading Heart-to-Heart Wise last year, and to wish you all a very Happy New Year. I hope your holidays were filled with merriment, peace, coziness, and the warmth of loved ones gathered close—and that your year is off to a good start.

Photo by Walter W on Unsplash

We often enter a new year with resolutions—those personal promises or goals we make at the beginning of January that have somehow become part of our DNA, all in the hopes of improving our lives. We’ve all heard them.

Work out, get fit, eat healthier, drink less, drink more water, start meditating, get better sleep, get into nature more often, read more, watch less TV, begin that hobby we’ve been thinking about for years, manage our finances better, volunteer… etc., etc.

Three years ago, I wrote this on Instagram:

I don’t know about you, but New Year’s resolutions stress me out. I’m not the type that, as soon as New Year’s Day has come and gone, I’m ready to spring into action and bring on full-fledged forward momentum. On the contrary, January for me is a time for hibernation—to rest and lie low, to kindle my creativity, to introspect and reflect on my habits, and, with gentle steps, not strides, reignite myself. I need to feel cozy and comforted on these long, dark nights in the bone of winter. Over the years, I’ve given myself permission to lean into my natural rhythm, my own inner cycle of self-nurturing. The soup is on, the warm white holiday lights still twinkle, and a delightful stack of books awaits, begging to nurture my soul.

Instead of using the word improve—which already implies a lack of—I want to flip the switch and try to look at the new year as doing more of the things I value. Things I’m passionate about. And if I’m passionate about them, growth and improvement will likely happen—slowly, like kindling, not like a thunderclap.

So this week, instead of setting goals, I chose a few words that capture the essence of what I want my year to be about. They are:

Transition, ease, loving kindness, slow living, nature, and health.

Instead of saying I want to get super fit—which puts pressure on us immediately—we could say: I value my health. And then ask, How can I best serve my health this year in small, consistent, and meaningful ways?
A short walk in nature. Preparing nourishing meals. A few minutes of meditation each day instead of trying to commit to twenty. Drinking plenty of water. Getting enough sleep by turning in earlier, and less screen time.

My yoga classes suddenly get packed to the gills the first week of January, only to see a drop-off by the end of February. Willpower alone is a limited resource, and we need systems in place to support our efforts. Try roping in a friend or finding an accountability buddy. Try a meditation app such as Calm or Insight Timer if you want support, structure, and a deeper understanding of the practice before you begin.

If you know your why, you’ll be far more likely to stick with something.

Usually, our Christmas tree is still up well into January, the lights glowing softly. But this New Year feels different. I’m only a week in and I’m already in the throes of a significant transition.

My oldest son is moving to Thailand for a while. My youngest son has just moved out to live with his girlfriend, and this feels permanent—unlike when he left for college. I’ve already begun cleaning—Swedish death cleaning, kind of. I took down the brittle, dried-out tree (a dirty job, sweeping up all the needles—I swear some will sneakily reappear in June), and packed away the decorations. This is so unlike me; I usually at least leave the lights up for two months. But we’ve had sunny, warm weather—it hit 73 degrees the other day—and oddly, I’m not feeling so attached this year.

I’ve been sorting through the kids’ unwanted things—items buried in the recesses of dark closets and ignored for years—taking things to charity, clearing space. It feels good. Like a fresh start. A new beginning. And it will only continue throughout the year. The basement is next. (Oh, my!)

Organically, it feels like the right time to tackle these things rather than put them off. When my house feels free of clutter, I feel lighter, less weighed down—and that alone feels like a fresh beginning. I’ll buy myself some fresh flowers this week—a ritual I started several years ago because they lift my mood, bring me joy, and add a small burst of vibrancy to our home.

I’ll also be scheduling my annual doctor’s check-up soon—blood work done, another New Year ritual I’ve kept for many years—and a trip to the dentist. All of it helps me feel focused and on track with my health right from the get-go.

Perhaps instead of going big, we start small—so it doesn’t feel overwhelming. Focusing on small actions helps us feel capable.

To introspect and reflect on our habits with gentle steps, not strides. To reignite.

And remember: we can reboot or begin something new at any time of year. I started cold plunging in September 2024 and haven’t looked back since.

I’d love to hear how you’re kicking off your New Year.

In the meantime, I hope this winter gives you exactly what you didn’t know you needed. I’ll be back later in spring, as I mentioned in my last post as I’m taking a sabbatical to work on other things - like querying my book. I hope you all stay with me until then.

If you feel inclined, I’d love to hear how you’re kicking off your New Year - what you’re carrying into your year, and what you’re ready to put down.

PS. I’ve been to the movies this past week:

Hamnet—a re-imagining of how William Shakespeare came to write Hamlet - based on Maggie O’Farell’s 2020 novel, exploring themes of love, family, death, grief, and the loss of their eleven year old son from the Bubonic Plague. (Intense, but utterly amazing and fantastic performances by Paul Mescal and Jessie Buckley, and the sweet young actor who plays Hamnet, Jacobi Jupe.)

The Wisdom of Happiness—an address to the global community by the Dalai Lama, though it is filmed as though he is speaking directly to YOU, with archival footage and excellent advice on how to live a more joyful life amidst these turbulent and chaotic times. Among many of his practical teachings, he emphasizes one in particular: compassion. Let’s treat everyone with compassion, as we are all ONE. What an exemplary human being he is.

I’m currently reading: Elissa Altman’s Poor Man’s Feast, and next up is The Creative Act, by Rick Rubin.

Love and light to all.

Gilly