Issue 64: Between Where I Was and What’s Next

ISSUE 64

3 DECEMBER 2025 | READ ONLINE

Hi Reader,

I’ve been quieter here the past few weeks.

London, then drifting through Europe by plane and train, then suddenly it was Thanksgiving, and without much ceremony, we were right at the doorway of December.

What I didn’t expect was how different everything felt once I slowed down. Wandering along the waterfront in Stockholm. Watching landscapes blur outside train windows in Switzerland. Standing in unfamiliar streets in Italy, with nowhere I needed to rush to. Movement created space. And space created questions I hadn’t realised I was avoiding.

It made me wonder:

When was the last time I really paused, not to recover, but to listen?

Because rest doesn’t look like rest anymore, does it? We call scrolling unwinding. We call podcasts on double speed downtime. We call answering emails from the couch a break. Yet so rarely do we stop long enough to feel where we actually are.

What landed for me while I was travelling was this: I wasn’t tired of the work I do. I was tired of never stepping out of motion long enough to breathe. And without space to breathe, growth starts to feel like pressure instead of expansion. Flow gets replaced by force.

That pause reminded me of something simple but powerful:

We don’t grow when we only accelerate. We grow when we create space for new insight to reach us.

If this Season feels Familiar, you’re not Alone

December has a way of stirring something quiet in many of us. End-of-year pressure sits alongside the reflection we didn’t schedule. Goals we chased all year begin to ask different questions. There’s often a low hum of weariness beneath it all. Nothing dramatic, just a subtle sense that something inside wants room to breathe.

You might feel motivated and tired at the same time. Ready for what’s next but also craving stillness before moving forward.

What Slowing Down Revealed for Me

Over these past few weeks, I realized that when I stopped pushing and allowed space to exist, three truths became clearer.

First, what we label as ambition can sometimes be fatigue dressed up as momentum. It’s incredibly easy to confuse constant movement with purposeful growth.

Second, flow doesn’t return through discipline or hustle alone. It reappears when noise drops, when our inner pace stabilizes enough for clarity to surface naturally. The insights I needed didn’t come from working harder, but from finally stopping working for the answers.

And third, our bodies often know before our minds do when it’s time for something to change. Long before we acknowledge it intellectually, our nervous systems are quietly telling the truth.

True growth doesn’t come from filling every available minute.

It comes from creating the spaciousness where reflection and intuition can meet forward momentum.

So I’ll ask you the Same Questions I asked myself

Where are you right now in this moment?

Are you still racing forward, or are you starting to feel a pull to slow?

Do your goals feel energizing, or are they beginning to feel like something you’re maintaining rather than growing into?

And perhaps the biggest one:

What becomes possible for you when you allow yourself space?

Flow?

Clarity?

A softer, steadier version of ambition?

A deeper sense of alignment with who you’re becoming?

These aren’t small reflections. They quietly shape the next chapter long before any decision or goal is written down.

A Simple Pause Practice

If you want to explore this gently, try this once before the year ends. Ask yourself:

Where am I right now?

Emotionally. Energetically. Mentally.

Then ask:

What am I longing for as this year closes?

And finally:

As I step into the next chapter, I want it to feel like __________.

Not what you want it to look like. Not what it should sound like.

What you want it to feel like.

Coming Home

I came home from Europe grateful for the work ahead, and even more grateful for the reminder that growth isn’t something we chase endlessly. Growth meets us when we create the conditions for it.

As the final weeks of this year unfold, I hope you find moments of quiet that reconnect you to yourself, moments that sit right between where you were and what’s next.

See you next week,

Megan