Here we are — at the edge of one month, one season, and, in many ways, one version of ourselves.
November is drawing to a quiet close. December is stirring awake. We are not quite in the rest of winter’s stillness, but no longer held in the golden arms of autumn. And beyond that, something deeper — a shift not just of calendar or temperature, but of consciousness.
This is what many spiritual teachers, astrologers, and mystics are whispering right now — that we are in a threshold moment. A collective invitation to examine not just what we’re doing… but who we are becoming.
And isn’t that what the in-between is really for?
To choose.
To listen.
To let go.
To begin again — not from force, but from deep remembering.
We are being asked to get clear:
- How do we want to live?
- What truths are asking to be embodied now?
- What parts of us are longing to finally be expressed?
But here's the thing — we can't hear those answers in the noise.
That’s why this sacred pause matters so much. It’s not a lull. It’s not a gap. It’s a womb space. A chrysalis. A holy hush before the becoming.
This in-between season is rich with choice. Do we carry the same old patterns, fears, and roles into the new year? Or do we lay them down — with reverence — and step forward as more of who we truly are?
You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to listen to the deeper yes.
In this space, before the planning and resolutions, before the push to define a new direction, you have a window. A breath. A sacred chance to ask:
- “What do I want to leave behind?”
- “What kind of life do I actually want to live?”
- “Who am I — when I stop performing and just be?”
And you do have the power to choose.
The spiritual path isn’t about having the answers. It’s about becoming the kind of person who lives the questions with honesty, devotion, and courage.
Even nature knows to pause before rebirth.
The seed does not rush the bloom.
The caterpillar does not skip the cocoon.
The moon goes dark before it shines again.
And you? You are no different.
Let this be your permission slip to slow down. To not be productive. To turn inward. To trust the wisdom of the pause. The world will wait.
Closing Reflection
This week, you don’t need to set resolutions.
You don’t need to have a plan.
You don’t even need clarity.
You only need presence.
Let yourself drift in the pause. Let yourself feel what’s real, without rushing to fix it. Let yourself soften into the grace of not knowing.
Because the real question isn't what you're doing next year.
The real question is:
Who are you allowing yourself to become?
And the sacred pause… is where that story begins.
Sue
