Rooting into December’s Rhythm with Our Yearly Compass
Week 50, 2025 — Closing the Year with Intention, Awareness, and Gentle Presence
ℱ𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈... 🫶💌☕
So, here we are at the end (not the start, as I said in the voiceover!) of the first week of the last month of this year.
I’d like to invite you to imagine us sitting somewhere calm, maybe with a warm drink, giving ourselves permission to pause.
There’s no rush, no pressure… just a little space for you to notice what’s happening inside.
Whatever you’re feeling (such as exhaustion, restlessness, sadness, or a quiet spark of joy) it’s real, and it’s welcome.
Even noticing it is an act of care.
As this is the final Guided Whispers post of the year, I‘d like to share what has guided me through 2025 and offer it to you:
Intention (my word of the year)
It’s been a compass for me, not a checklist or a goal, but a gentle reminder to move through life with awareness, even when days feel messy (and there was definitely a couple of months over the summer there where I amalgamated both months together).
For me, intention this year was about noticing, feeling, and responding with presence, and I hope it can be a gentle companion for you too.
This year,
‘Intention’ has been my compass,
quietly guiding me back
whenever I’ve felt unmoored.
December has its own rhythm… endings and beginnings woven together, a subtle tension between wanting to act and needing to rest (like much of winter, really).
Both are valid, and both are part of your natural rhythm.
I’d like to take a moment to invite you to notice here:
the weight of your body,
the subtle tension in your shoulders,
the rise and fall of your breath.
Awareness in itself is grounding, and you can offer it to yourself anytime.
Sometimes the quiet can feel heavy. Life can feel relentless, even in the softest season.
So today, notice what’s closing, and notice what’s quietly growing beneath the surface within you.
Even small moments matter:
the chill in the air,
the light shifting in the day,
a pause between tasks.
Slowing down isn’t indulgent… it’s essential for your nervous system and for your wellbeing.
Notice what’s closing,
notice what’s growing
beneath the surface.
If your body or emotions are responding (such as tension, restlessness, sadness, or memories coming up) that’s real.
You are allowed to feel it without needing to fix or change it.
Listening to yourself, noticing what’s present, and giving yourself permission to simply be is healing in itself.
December may invite you to rest whilst also nudging you toward action.
Both of these impulses are natural parts of your nervous system’s rhythm.
Moving gently, pausing fully, and holding your own pace are all acts of resilience that you can honour.
December Acrostic…
Deep quiet evenings invite rest,
Endings softly fold into beginnings,
Candles flicker with gentle warmth,
Echoes of the year whisper stories,
Moments to pause, notice, and breathe,
Breathing space for your heart and mind,
Each day a little softer, a little lighter,
Resting into the rhythm of this month.
I wrote this for you as a gentle anchor to remind you that presence is enough.
Many of us spend our days giving and supporting others.
And yet, your nervous system often goes unnoticed.
So, this week, I invite you to notice:
Where did you care for others and forget to care for yourself?
Where can you offer yourself a moment of pause?
What small act of kindness toward yourself can ripple outward?
Even the smallest acts matter. Your self-care is not selfish… it’s essential.
You’re allowed to be as present for yourself as you are for others.
Here are some prompts for reflection, if they feel safe to explore:
What felt good for you this month, or this year? Even tiny sparks count.
What felt hard? How can you hold it without needing to fix it immediately?
If you could give yourself one compass-word to carry forward (just one) what would it be?
What subtle reminder could you offer yourself each day?
Imagine the quiet of December
wrapping around you,
like a soft blanket,
giving your nervous system space
to rest and breathe.
The Guided Whispers series has been about noticing rhythms, taking small intentional pauses, reflecting, and gently re-educating our nervous systems together.
Whilst this is the last post in this series, the essence (such as noticing nature, honoring the months, threading awareness through life) will continue in my weekly letters throughout 2026, but in a simpler, more streamlined and flowing way. And this will unfold in due course.
So this week, and always, let’s:
be gentle with ourselves,
notice what’s present,
and offer ourselves the same patience and understanding that we give to others.
You’re not alone… I’m here holding space with you, noticing the quiet, and breathing alongside you.
And please know that I’m deeply grateful for those of you who’ve been here with me throughout this series over the course of this last year; whether you’ve been with me since that start of the year, dipped out (and back in again), or have only just joined me).
Until next time,
Take care.
𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝑒,
🙏 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝓍𝑜




Dana, this was such a breath of fresh air in my feed today. I love the way you approach the end of the year, not with urgency, but with a soft invitation to slow down and actually feel where we are.
My word for this year has been patience, something I didn’t even realize I struggled with until life kept bringing me back to it. Reading your post, it made me smile to realize how naturally it pairs with intention. My intention has been to learn patience, which feels funny to admit out loud. One year in, and I’m still practicing. Maybe that’s the point.
The line about “the subtle tension in your shoulders” — mine isn’t subtle at all. It’s been shouting at me lately. Thank you for this pause, this moment to breathe into that tension instead of push past it. Even that felt like a small act of care.
I love that you invite us to notice without needing to fix. So much of the content I’ve been reading lately pulls people into their past or into crisis. Your writing brings us back into our bodies, to the small spaces where growth is actually happening. Notice what’s closing, notice what’s growing beneath the surface, that landed deeply for me.
And your December acrostic… beautiful. Such a gentle anchor. It captured exactly what this month feels like: quiet endings folding into quiet beginnings.
Thank you for closing the year this way with presence over pressure. It reminded me that even the smallest awareness is enough.
🤍 Andrea
Endings and beginnings speak deeply to me Dana. I have saved this post as I feel I will need it in the coming weeks. Thank you as always.🙏✨