Remember last week when I said the traffic jam cleared and you could finally move forward?

Yeah. About that.

This week, the universe has a different idea. Not a backslide…more like a pause. A hand on your shoulder, saying not so fast, we’re not done here yet.

If things feel heavier than expected, you’re not making it up. If your energy dips, or if obstacles appear out of nowhere and you suddenly need a nap at 2pm like it’s your job, that’s not you failing at December. That’s the week.

Something is completing, and it’s not the kind of completing you check off a list. It’s more the kind that happens underneath, over years. Like an era ending. A version of yourself you’ve been carrying longer than you realized is finally ready to be set down.

The fog that’s been lingering starts to lift. And illusions you’ve been holding onto get harder to maintain. But first, you might need to just… stop for a minute and let things take the time they take. Feel more. See more. Sense more.

That’s the assignment.

There’s a belief that won’t survive this week

“I should be over this by now.”

I hear some version of this almost every week. It’s a frustration with still grieving or still processing or still circling the same damn thing you thought you’d resolved ages ago.

But what if it was never a quick-fix situation at all? What if it was a years-long completion and you’ve been judging yourself against a timeline that was never real?

Some things don’t resolve. They complete. And completion doesn’t care about your calendar or your expectations or how long you think healing or getting over it or getting through it “should” take.

The fact that you’re still in it doesn’t mean you’ve failed, but it might mean you’re finally ready to finish. (Those are very different things.)

The part that’s hard to see on your own

I know December wants you to perform and rush and do all the things and smile while doing them.

But this week is quietly asking something different. What if you just… didn’t?

What if you let yourself be tired? Or let the ending of something be as sacred as the beginning? What if “still working on it” was the whole point, not the problem?

The people I work with who’ve been at this for years aren’t stuck. They’re thorough. But it’s hard to see the arc when you’re inside it. It’s hard to trust the pace when everyone else seems to have moved on.

Having someone who remembers where you started, and who can see the whole shape of the thing when you’re lost in the middle, is not indulgence. Often, it’s the only thing that makes the slowness make sense.

Jonni

P.S. Next week I’ll be sending my seasonal conversation with astrologer Marielle Croft about what’s actually happening in the cosmos this winter. We’re not just entering a new season. We’re at the edge of an entirely new era. It’s the kind of perspective that makes everything click into place. Watch for it.