Finding Peace in the Pace of December

A gentle invitation to slow down, listen inward, and step back into authorship of your December story.

December holds two stories at once.

There’s our outer story —  the moment we take to decorate our home, the lights, the traditions we try to keep, the gatherings that feel life-giving and draining at the same time, the expectations we feel.

And then there’s our inner story — the feelings of joy, exhaustion, memory, longing, grief, hope, and everything in between. Some of these feelings come naturally and we welcome them with open arms, others come unconsciously and we try to deny or ignore them.

We are always living inside multiple storylines, and December has a way of bringing them all into the room at the same time. Sometimes the loudest story is the one shaped by pressure, old patterns, or cultural expectations. Sometimes the quieter story — the one your heart is actually trying to live gets pushed aside. 

This month, I want to help you reconnect with your preferred story: the version of your December that honors your humanity, your capacity, your healing, and your relationships in gentle, life-giving ways.

To reconnect with your preferred story, we begin by noticing the small choices that either give voice to that story or unintentionally strengthen a more dominant one. When we pause and name what truly matters to us this season, we create space for the story we want to live to take deeper root.

The body thrives on anchoring — moments of safety, predictability, and connection. What brings us back to center is rarely grand or dramatic. Peace begins in places so small we often overlook them. Peace doesn’t come from doing more. Peace comes when we return to the story we want to live — slowly, intentionally, kindly. 

The Psychology Behind Why This Month Feels So Big

There’s a reason December can feel emotionally “loud." Our bodies and brains respond to this season in ways most of us never notice. The brain stores memories through sensory cues — through smells, sounds, temperature, music, and rhythms. And December is full of sensory reminders like the familiar song in the radio, the scent of a candle, a certain family routine. All of these act like little emotional switches, quietly waking up memories from many different years at once. This is why December can bring joy, nostalgia, grief, and longing into the same room — even if we haven’t consciously invited them.

On top of that, the nervous system is carrying a heavier load. We have more decisions to make, more noise around us, more gatherings to attend, more pressure to handle, and more disrupted routines. When life gets busy and overwhelming, our ability to stay calm and think clearly gets smaller - our emotions rise faster, our patience wears thinner, and exhaustion settles deeper. Nothing is wrong with you; your body is simply responding to the pace. 

And because the brain is wired for familiarity, not necessarily truth, it often pulls forward old patterns and old roles — the ways we used to show up in family systems, the expectations we grew up with, the pressure to make everything meaningful or magical. 

December also sits at the end of a calendar year, and psychologists know that year-end moments act like emotional checkpoints. Without even trying, we begin to reflect and evaluate. We remember who and what we’ve lost, who we’re becoming (or not becoming), what we hoped for, and what still feels unfinished. The result is a month full of meaning, memory, and emotional weight — all happening inside a body that is already carrying more stimulation than usual.

The Slow Work of Noticing

One of the most meaningful lessons I’ve learned — personally and as a therapist — is that peace doesn’t appear because everything around us is calm. Peace grows when we learn how to slow down our pace, even in the middle of full, busy, beautifully complicated lives.

You don’t need a perfect morning routine or a whole day to recharge. You need small, intentional pockets of slowness: the first quiet minute before we roll out of bed, a warm mug between your hands (my favorite), a candle lit before bed, a soft breath before you answer a question. These tiny acts tell your nervous system, I’m here. I’m safe. I don’t need to rush.

They are small, but they matter.

When we are trying to pay attention to the outer stories of celebrations and the inner stories of longings and memories, know that both stories matter.

Grief can feel sharper in December.

Old family patterns can resurface.

Faith can feel stronger or more uncertain.

Loneliness can grow in crowded rooms.

Joy can surprise us right in the middle of the ordinary. 

This doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. It means you’re human.

Letting all of it have space — not pushing away the ache, not forcing constant cheerfulness — is actually what creates room for peace. Sometimes honoring the season looks like lighting a candle for someone who is gone, or choosing a simpler version of a tradition, or giving yourself permission to feel the full truth of your heart without apology.

Light and sorrow can sit at the same table. Both belong. Both can be held gently. 

It’s important to remember that none of this makes you weak or behind — it makes you alive. 

The holidays have a way of brushing up against the deepest parts of our story, and feeling stretched or tender doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means your heart is awake to what matters. Allowing yourself to feel the full range of your inner world is not only normal, it’s deeply healthy. It’s how we stay connected to our humanity. This kind of honesty may feel hard, but it’s also life-giving — it softens us, grounds us, and makes space for a more honest, hopeful December to emerge. 

Making Room for the Hard and the Hopeful

Emotions that feel heavy aren’t here to derail the season; they’re here to guide you back to what matters. When you allow grief or longing to take a seat beside joy, you create a fuller, more integrated story. Not a perfect one — a human one. And from that place of honesty, December can become less about performing and more about being present. 

Emotions and thoughts are signals. They are information about what matters to us, what we need, and where our story feels tender. When we acknowledge them, they lose their intensity. This is called integration. And integration helps us stay regulated, grounded, and present in the moments that matter. Therefore, when we listen to our emotions with compassion, we understand ourselves more clearly and are able to respond with more intention.

Externalizing our emotions and our thoughts help us see our experience more clearly. You are not the problem. The problem is the problem.

Your worth — your story — stays intact.

Grief, longing, and tenderness all deserve a place at your December table. Not as intrusions. As honored guests in your story.

Choosing What Truly Matters

You don’t need to say yes to everything. Your energy is not infinite — especially at the end of the year.

Let your yes circulate around your values, not around guilt or pressure. Let your no be clear, kind, and honest.

Simplifying December doesn’t take away from the season — it opens space for you to actually feel it. And when it comes to family rhythms, try choosing just one or two things to anchor the month: a cozy movie night, a simple act of kindness, a moment to breathe or pray together, a few minutes of quiet after everyone has gone to bed.

Remember that rhythms hold us gently while expectations overwhelm us. Which one will you choose today?

And For Anyone Who Finds Strength in Their Faith

For those who hold faith close, this season can also be a reminder that we’re not walking through our stories alone. God often meets us in the quieter places — in the strength we didn’t know we had. 

The hard and the holy can sit side by side because grace is steady enough to hold both. If your heart is reaching for God this December, let it be simple: a whisper, a pause, a small prayer for peace. Often, that’s where the deepest rest begins. 

God’s presence is not limited to the moments that feel happy or easy. He draws near in the very places we would never think to look — in weakness, in grief, in uncertainty, in the quiet pain we carry into December. Even when we can’t feel Him clearly, He is not absent. 

If faith holds a place in your story, let December remind you that God comes close to the brokenhearted — not after we’ve pulled ourselves together, but right in the middle of the story we’re actually living.

Closing

Peace doesn’t come from an empty calendar, a perfect season, and most certainly a perfect family (because they don’t exist). 

Peace comes from listening inward and choosing a pace that honors your humanity.

As you move through December, may you feel free to slow down, to breathe deeper, to notice the quiet good that is still unfolding in your story.

You don’t have to perform joy.You don’t have to match anyone else’s pace.You don’t have to carry everything alone.

You’re allowed to choose gentleness.You’re allowed to choose presence.And you’re always allowed to try again. 

A One-Minute December Reset 

This tiny practice shifts your nervous system toward calm, gratitude, and grounded awareness. It helps December unfold at a pace your heart can actually sustain.

At the end of each day, take sixty seconds to name:• one thing that helped me come home to myself

• one thing you’re ready to release

• one thing that brought even a small moment of peace 

About the Author

Written by Gaby Ortiz, MA, LPC, NCC.

Gaby is a Licensed Professional Counselor in Colorado who helps children, teens, women, and families grow with resilience, warmth, and hope. She believes that healing begins in safe connection and that every story holds the possibility of renewal.

Rewriting Your December Story:

A gentle, life-coaching practice for choosing presence, clarity, and a kinder pace.

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This reflection was shaped by the wisdom of both lived experience and research — here are a few of the sources that informed this work and writing:

American Psychological Association. (2023). Holiday stress and emotional well-being: APA Stress in America Survey.

American Psychological Association. (2020). Why Holidays Can Be Hard: Emotional Responses to Seasonal Expectations.

Centre for Addiction and Mental Health. (n.d.). Coping with Holiday Stress. 

National Alliance on Mental Illness. (n.d.). The happiest time of the year? Tips for managing holiday stress. NAMI.