THE SPACE BETWEEN YEARS

HI, I’M SCOTT.

If you’re returning, I’m really glad you’re here.
If this is your first time, welcome.

This is a space to slow down—especially when the world is telling you to speed up, reset, reinvent, and arrive somewhere new overnight.

WHEN THE YEAR ENDS, BUT YOU DON’T FEEL “READY” FOR THE NEXT

There’s a strange energy that shows up at the end of the year.

Everyone is wrapping things up.
Posting their wins.
Declaring resolutions.
Talking about “fresh starts.”

And meanwhile, you might be here—
reflecting, but not quite clear.
hopeful, but not finished.
tired, but still quietly becoming.

Not behind.
Not lost.
Just… unfinished.

The end of a year doesn’t always bring closure.
Sometimes it simply brings awareness.

You see what worked.
You see what didn’t.
You see what never fully took shape.

And instead of clarity, you’re left with questions.

That used to make me uneasy.

I thought a new year required a clean slate.
A plan.
A vision statement.
A bold declaration of what comes next.

But life doesn’t always move in clean chapters.

Sometimes the year ends
and you’re still mid-sentence.

THE SPACE BETWEEN YEARS ISN’T EMPTY

It’s transitional.

It’s the quiet hallway between who you were and who you’re becoming.

You’re carrying lessons you haven’t fully integrated yet.
You’re releasing things you haven’t fully named.
You’re standing at the edge of change without needing to leap.

And that’s okay.

This space isn’t asking you to rush into clarity.
It’s asking you to honor what shaped you.

The exhaustion.
The growth.
The moments you didn’t think you’d survive—but did.

You don’t need to force meaning out of the year before it’s ready.

Reflection doesn’t have to be loud.
Transformation doesn’t need a deadline.

Sometimes the most honest way to enter a new year
is gently, without pretending you’re done becoming.

THE NEW YEAR ISN’T A STARTING LINE

It’s a continuation.

You don’t suddenly reset at midnight.
You carry yourself forward—with more wisdom, more discernment, more compassion for your own timing.

If this year taught you anything,
it might be this:

Progress doesn’t always look like forward motion.
Sometimes it looks like staying.
Sometimes it looks like resting.
Sometimes it looks like choosing not to abandon yourself just to feel “ahead.”

You don’t owe the new year a perfected version of you.

You’re allowed to arrive exactly as you are.

THIS SPACE, AND WHAT YOU’LL FIND HERE

Each week, I share reflections for navigating growth that isn’t obvious yet— the quiet recalibrations, the internal shifts, the moments that don’t make headlines but change everything.

You don’t need a grand resolution to move forward.
Presence is enough.

A 3-MINUTE END-OF-YEAR GROUNDING PRACTICE

Sit somewhere comfortable: chair, floor, bed, wherever you can soften.

Step 1 — Breathe
Inhale through your nose for 5.
Hold for 2.
Exhale slowly for 7.
Repeat five times.

Step 2 — Reflect
Quietly name:

One thing this year asked you to let go of.
One way you grew that no one else saw.
One feeling you want to carry—not fix—into the new year.

Step 3 — Affirm
Say slowly, aloud or silently:

“I don’t need to rush my becoming.”

Let that be enough.

No planning.
No pressure.
Just honesty.

THE QUESTION TO CARRY INTO THE NEW YEAR

What if you entered this year not trying to reinvent yourself— but trusting the version of you that already survived, learned, and softened?

What would change if you let the year meet you where you are?

You don’t have to declare anything yet.
Clarity will come when it’s ready.

JOIN THE JOURNEY

Subscribe for weekly reflections on presence, patience, and the kind of growth that doesn’t always show up on a timeline—but changes you deeply.

Until next time—be gentle with yourself as the year turns.

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The Waiting Room of Becoming