Christmas, Creativity, and Living Quietly

Christmas always seems to slow life down for me, if only for a moment.

It gives a chance to pause and look back on the year—not to judge it or measure it against some idea of success, but just to notice it: the moments of joy, the struggles, the things created, and the things endured. Life doesn’t hand us meaning neatly packaged. Mostly, it gives fragments, and we do our best to piece them together.

For me, creativity—whatever form it takes—is an act of faith, care, healing, and more. It’s not about being seen or making something perfect. It’s about quietly responding to what I feel, what I notice, what nudges me from the inside. Sometimes that’s making art. Sometimes it’s a conversation, a gesture, or simply showing up for the small parts of life that matter.

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t always know the right path. Most days, I just try to keep my head down, pay attention, and live as honestly as I can. Purpose isn’t something you arrive at; it’s something you practice quietly, moment by moment, in how you treat yourself and the world around you.

This season reminds me to honour the things I managed to create, the lessons I survived, and the small ways I cared for myself and others. Even the quietest acts matter. Even the days that feel ordinary are full of meaning if we notice them.

I don’t live a life of certainty. I live a life of trying. Of noticing. Of making space for joy, for care, and for the work that can’t be rushed. And somehow, even in that simple, humble way, life feels full.

So here’s to pausing, quietly noticing, and honouring the year as it was. 

Merry Christmas, and a New Year full of quiet moments, small joys, gentle creativity, and the kind of courage it takes to simply keep going.