Ashes in the Light

Again, thank you for (still) being here with me.
There aren’t many of you, but I know some read quietly — and that means more than you know.

The days between Christmas and now passed quietly, almost softly. It wasn’t a season filled with big plans or loud celebrations, but rather one spent slowing down, catching my breath, and easing myself into the new year.

I’ve been spending time resting, reconnecting, and doing things at my own pace. There were moments with family and loved ones, small catch-ups with friends, simple meals, and pockets of time where I allowed myself to just be. In between, there was also work — familiar faces, creative setups, and the quiet satisfaction of doing something with my hands again.

We started Christmas with a family dinner at Uncle Bobby’s Place — a familiar, comforting gathering with adults and cousins, just like always. After Christmas came Boxing Day, and in the midst of work, we celebrated my husband’s birthday. We went to Dusk @ Mount Faber for his birthday dinner. It was festive and crowded, but the ambience was still lovely, and it felt nice to mark the occasion together.

After that, work slowed down, and the days naturally revolved around food and time with my husband — mostly home-cooked meals, shared quietly at home

We also made time to head out for meals, met some friends for dinner, and even helped them transport a few things from IKEA. Of course, that included a stop for Swedish meatballs first.

This period gave me space to reflect — on the year that passed, on how much has changed, and on how I want to move forward. Not in a rushed, “new year, new goals” kind of way, but gently, honestly, and intentionally.

Some days were productive.
Some days were slower.
And some days were simply about showing up — even if that meant resting, reading, or doing nothing at all. I’m learning that all of it counts.

As 2026 begins, I don’t have grand resolutions. What I do have is a quiet hope — to continue choosing things that feel right, to take better care of myself, and to keep documenting these moments here, even when life feels ordinary.

Here’s to starting the year softly.