Hey Reader,

I was crying outside Manteigaria—the kind where your body takes over and strangers give you concerned thumbs-ups. Something small triggered something old: a banking delay, a sharp word, a memory of being told I wasn’t welcome somewhere I’d called home. The contrast between festive expectations and actual feelings felt enormous.

Two days later, in shavasana after hot yoga, I found myself in Santorini again—blue domes, southern European sun, solo walks down winding roads next to cars speeding by during my life-changing trip after a layoff in 2024. My subconscious whispered: You took that journey. You’ll take this one too. You’ll be fine. When I woke to the gentle warmth and the instructor’s voice in Portuguese, the heaviness had lifted like sweat wiped away with a towel.

Christmas isn’t always happy. We learn to say “life is good” as if no other answer is allowed, but our bodies know better. Less than 72 hours into 2026, I’m reminded:

It’s okay to cry without reason.

It’s okay to smile under unexpected sun.

It’s okay to leave the to-do list unfinished.

Every day is a new beginning, whether it’s January 1st or not.

✍️ Prompt for Your Week Ahead

What are you giving yourself permission for as this year ends?

P.S.

If you’d like a warm Christmas read: How Was Christmas for You Last Year?​

I’m working on a longer piece about the crying and the shavasana too—coming soon to Substack.

P.P.S.

Here’s the short video I shared this week: I Asked ChatGPT to Reflect My Year​

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From a not-so-blue Monday that was supposed to be Sunday,

Lydia

14°C and sunny in Lisbon