December as a portal 🌀
dreaming in the dark
In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re approaching the end of the year at a(n alarmingly) rapid pace. The last quarter always flies by quickly, but this one — much like the rest of 2023 before it — has felt especially…warped? Wonky? Strange? That’s been an ongoing theme for me this year: distorted timelines, non-linear paths from point A to point B, and a general sense of disorientation. Nothing has felt particularly stable or sturdy or predictable in 2023. It’s like I fell into an episode of Twin Peaks back in January and I’ve been stuck in the Red Room ever since.
As soon as October (aka the busiest month of my life) came to a close, something in me shifted. At some point over the last month, my vantage point changed: instead of feeling like I was smack in the middle of a chaos that I couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of, I was finally able to pull myself out of the eye of the hurricane to get a glimpse of the big picture. The overarching themes of 2023 started to come into focus, and the hard-learned lessons (and challenges that preceded them) started to make sense. It felt like the universe was acknowledging how uncomfortably weird this year has been, and rewarding me for sticking it out by offering me a new sense of clarity as we prepare to head into 2024.
That’s not to say that this year has been a bust — it was more like a relentless uphill climb, but the kind that rewards you with a breathtaking view at the top. I may have clawed my way here, but now that I’ve made it to final month of the year, I can see the end in sight — and I can feel new muscles forming and a new level of strength emerging (and how appropriate, seeing as the Major Arcana card for 2024 is Strength — more on that in a future newsletter!) It reminds me of something that my favorite tarot reader and teacher, Lindsay Mack, often says: that time is spiralic. We’re forever cycling through different phases and chapters — sometimes feeling like we’re right back where we started — but we’re never the same version of ourselves that we were the last time around.
I share this because it’s been a strange year for almost everyone I know. The general consensus has been some version of “this year has been especially challenging / confusing / uncomfortable,” and I couldn’t agree more. If you’ve felt that way too, I hope you find comfort in knowing that we’ve all been in this weird, murky soup together. And whether or not 2024 brings a different energy (which I think it will), one thing is for sure: nothing stays the same for long. With a new year right around the corner, I’m already starting to feel an energetic shift and a welcome sense of lightness that I haven’t felt in awhile.
While we all know that there’s no magical reset button that gets pushed at midnight on January 1st, there’s an undeniable collective feeling of newness that comes with it: a sense that we all get to start over, make changes, and transform parts of ourselves if we choose to. It’s as if all of the resolutions, intentions, goals, and plans that are sent out into the universe feed into a collective dream for better days ahead. While I don’t necessarily think that the societal messaging we receive around the new year is helpful (there’s way too much pressure to *transform your life* — and so much of it is just a thinly veiled marketing ploy), I do think that the start of a new year can be a supportive time for making positive changes and shedding what no longer serves us. The problem I’ve run into is that there’s this false sense of urgency to have it all figured out by the time we flip the calendar to January — and I don’t know about you, but I’m usually still reeling from the holiday season and trying to recover from the commitments, obligations, and heightened emotions it can bring.
That’s why I’m taking some time now to allow myself to dream about 2024, before the intensity of the holidays pulls me out of my inner realm and into the external world of events, gatherings, and gift-giving. To me, this brief pre-holiday period feels like the calm before the storm, making it a time ripe for reflection, checking in, and daydreaming about the future.
This moment feels like a portal: between years, between realities, between what’s present now and what possibilities lie ahead.
These cold, quiet days allow me the space I need to let my mind wander, and I’ve been finding myself looking back in order to look forward: assessing what worked and what didn’t during these past eleven months so that I can adjust accordingly for the future. For me, 2023 was a big year of learning, experimenting, and chasing ideas and inspiration — which, in many cases, helped me figure out what actually wasn’t meant for me. There was a lot of stepping outside of my comfort zone and straying from my plans, only to come back home to myself with more information about my true needs and desires. I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t frustrating to have so many stops and starts and to pour so much effort into things that ultimately didn’t feel aligned in the end — but I know that chapters like this one are often the most significant in the grand scheme of things. After all, what’s more powerful than getting to know yourself on a deeper, more intimate level?
Armed with a year’s worth of insight and wisdom, I’ve found myself in the early phases of crafting my own version of a vision board for 2024. It’s not the kind of vision board that you tack up on the wall (though I strongly support making one if you feel called), but more of a smattering of inspiration saved in various places: carefully thought-out plans typed up in a Word doc, snippets of random text saved in my Notes app at 2am, promises sworn silently to myself during those rare moments of clarity. Together, all of these bits and pieces form a more complete picture of the future that I’m dreaming of: a spell for 2024, if you will.
As I continue to gather information about what I want next year to look and feel like — changes I want to make, projects I hope to start and roles I want to step into, things I want to move away from (or confidently say no to) in order to make space for things that feel more aligned — my spell grows stronger. My vision for a new reality gets clearer and takes on a more specific shape. It feels powerful, but also delicate and vulnerable; it asks me to hold it close and treat it gently. It will need nurturing and tending to in the days and weeks ahead. I make a commitment to protect it fiercely and to take it seriously. I promise not to forget all that I’ve learned this year.
If you also feel called to let yourself dream about the future and about different ways of moving through the world — be in once January rolls around or whenever the time feels right — I’d invite you to answer that call in whatever ways feel good to you. Dreaming is a crucial (but often overlooked) first step when it comes to committing to any goal, project, or intention. The work doesn’t start with planning and researching, but with letting our minds run wild and imagine that anything’s possible. That’s often when the best ideas and sparks of inspiration come, and it also sends a signal to the universe that we’re ready for and open to new things. Every reality begins as a dream: an idea fueled by the belief and trust that it’s worthwhile, possible, and important enough to act on.
There are so many ways to honor your dreams, too: you can hold them close to your chest like a powerful secret, speak them aloud to your most trusted loved ones, or shout them from the rooftops. You can build an altar to your deepest desires, gathering objects that make you feel supported and empowered to go after them. You can think about the colors and tastes and sounds and textures that make up your visions for the future and then begin to incorporate them into your daily life. You can take into consideration the themes, qualities, and archetypes that fit into the world you’re dreaming of when you choose books, movies, and other forms of art to engage with (because media is a form of magic too.)
You can start breathing life into your dreams right now by allowing yourself to wish and visualize and believe with abandon. You can reflect upon how far you’ve come already, and how many challenges you’ve successfully conquered to get here. You can remind yourself of every spark of inspiration you’ve nurtured with care and patience, and all of the beautiful things you’ve birthed into the world — things that could only come from you, through your unique perspective. During these dark December days, you can feed your inner flame by letting your passion and excitement and devotion to your dreams grow — and you can let that ever-growing flame fuel you on your path forward.
December is best spent dreaming, I think: we can turn inward during these long, dark days and emerge just in time to begin a new cycle with clarity, presence, and a renewed commitment to ourselves. ✷
Here are some things that I’ve been considering while crafting my vision for 2024, in case you find these points helpful to reflect on:
Think about your most expansive and joyous moments this year: times when things just felt right, you felt in the flow and tapped into your magic, or you experienced pure feelings of joy, pleasure, or contentment. What contributed to those feelings? How can you prioritize or open up to more of those feelings in 2024?
What brought up feelings of contraction this year? What activities, commitments, or relationships felt draining, unsupportive, or took you away from the things that light you up? Are there boundaries that need to be set, patterns that need to shift, or things that are ready to be left behind?
Are there ideas, projects, or pursuits that feel like they didn't get enough of your time and energy in 2023? If they still feel exciting and aligned, how can you commit to honoring and prioritizing them next year?