My End-of-Year Rituals

A gentle way to close one chapter and open another

· 4 min read

I love the month of December, but not for the obvious reasons. Not for the bustle, the glitter, the countdowns.

I love it for the snow (hopefully soon), the quiet, the solitude. For the way the world softens just enough to invite us inward.

December is when I naturally slip into reflection mode: long walks in the cold, little pockets of journaling, early evenings spent rearranging papers and ideas. It feels like creating my own tiny creative retreat at home.

Hands hold A Year in Practice open to the “Winter” chapter, showing seasonal themes like rest, introspection, and calm, with the workbook visible nearby on the table.

Years ago, during a group retreat in the mountains of Oregon, I was introduced to a handful of reflection tools that have stayed with me ever since. Without really planning it, I realized I’ve built a set of end-of-year rituals, the things I return to every December to feel grounded, inspired, and ready for whatever is next.

Here’s a peek inside my process.

A person holds an iPad displaying the illustrated cover of Unravel Your Year 2026 by Susannah Conway, using a stylus while sitting indoors with soft light and plants in the background.

Reflection & Creative Clarity

My mind was blown when I finally realized this year that I could fill the workbook on my iPad. The burden of printing and storing all these pages had started to feel overwhelming, but this year I'm dedicated to reflect on the past year, month by month. I like to use my Photos app and my calendar to remember the highs and lows.

I feel like this three-day email exercise is a great way to bring some order to the chaos of all the creative projects I want to work on. Writing them all down, and giving priority, focus and energy to just one seems like a great place to start (the new year).

I return to this one often: when the light fades, when the weather is gloomy, when I don't have energy. I always find a cozy or energizing activity to pick from it.

I already know what word a few of my friends and mentors have chosen for 2026. Mine is starting to take shape and might, to my surprise, not be a verb!

I have yet to tally up my 2025 score, but I'm already excited to brainstorm fun ideas for the upcoming year. I also keep a list of all the items I didn't cross off from previous years. It gives me so much clarity on what I actually like to dedicate my energy to!

Another gentle way to frame New Year’s resolutions. Instead of rigid goals, I like listing what I want to invite in for the year ahead — feelings, habits, energies — and what I’m ready to let out. It’s simple, clarifying, and surprisingly grounding.

I might never do it again, but I still cannot recommend it enough. You know how sometimes something changes your life but you can't quite articulate why? Well, this was it for me. Give it a try at least once in your life!

Close-up of someone writing on their iPad in the “The Word” section of Unravel Your Year 2026, jotting ideas like “create,” “new experiments,” and “create community” with a stylus.

Life Admin

This might be boring to some, but for me, having systems that have proven to be efficient to alleviate my mental load, avoid friction, and give me opportunities to connect and celebrate is worth the time spent on my phone or computer. I even have a whole section dedicated to productivity on here.

A person reads A Year in Practice by Jacqueline Suskin while sitting indoors, holding the book open so the cover and spine are clearly visible in soft natural light.

Reading Lists for the New Year

I wish I had the time to reread each and every one of these books every year. This month, I borrowed A Year in Practice from the library again, and might even decide to only read the chapter dedicated to the winter season.

A Year in Practice by Jacqueline Suskin rests on a wooden table beside the Unravel Your Year 2026 workbook, both lit by soft natural light.

Conclusion

I don't feel like I have to use every single one of these tools for my December to feel successful. These rituals have been anchors over the past few years, and have offered my opportunities to slow down long enough to notice who I’ve been, who I’m becoming, and what I want to make space for next.

December is a threshold between seasons. And every time I step through it, I’m reminded that reflection doesn’t need to be perfect or productive to be meaningful. It just needs a little intention, a little softness, and a little time.

Do you have any end-of-year rituals — big or small — that help you close the year with clarity or calm? I’d love to hear what you return to each December.

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