How I've kept the December melancholy at bay
It’s that time of the year. Crap. I knew this was coming — it always does.
Every year, as December looms, I brace for the familiar descent into my seasonal melancholy. But over the last couple of years, something has slowed that slide — and, for the first time since my 30s, I’ve managed to keep myself from hitting the basement floor.
That is mighty progress, as my therapist would say.
That “something” is a month-long process I started three years ago. At first, it was just an exercise to improve upon my stale year-end routine. But lo and behold, it’s become something more. For one, it has helped keep my December sadness at bay. But the really surprising thing is that it has somehow become a way of celebrating my life. Now, that definitely wasn’t by design.
This month-long practice has shifted how I see the past year. No longer is it a series of wins and losses to tally. Instead, it’s a collection of moments worth appreciating. I’ll share the details of my process here, and if you’re a paying WAGO subscriber, you’ll also get the Notion template and a PDF version of the worksheet to try for yourself.
It started as a legacy from a previous life.
A habit I’ve kept up with long after dropping out of corporate life is the obligatory “annual review and planning” sesh.
I’d always made a big deal out of this practice. A day would be set aside weeks in advance. Around the end of December, right before New Year, was ideal so I’d be filled with the requisite positive energy to greet the new year, motivated and inspired, and waving my pompoms to boot. I’d take myself to some nice location conducive to thinking big thoughts and gracious feelings — there was, after all, an assessment part of this exercise.
But it needed to be different.
The first couple of years after leaving corporate, I simply followed the familiar framework of “What went well? What didn’t? What’s next?” It was efficient. But it also felt a bit sterile, like assessing a project instead of examining a life.
My life, especially beyond my corporate career, didn’t fit neatly into checkboxes and KPIs. Life is messier — and far richer — than that. I started to futz with the process to make it my own and to capture the different colors of a whole year.
Eventually, I came up with a list of 20 questions (I know!), cobbled together from bits and pieces — suggestions I picked up here and there. I’ve completed these questions in one sitting, but what I find most helpful is extending it over a few days and allowing myself time to sit with my responses.
I stumbled into something unexpected.
My “decision” (if I can call it that!) to extend my year-end reflection over a few days — most of December, in fact — has made all the difference. What started as a way to manage my melancholy has become something much more meaningful.
I didn’t expect this simple shift to matter much. But taking time to reflect throughout December didn’t just lift my mood. It turned the act of looking back into something (dare I say?) joyful.
I think it’s because I’ve turned a rote exercise into a deep reflection.
And this deep reflection, in turn, has become a kind of celebration of my life, regardless… and this is important… regardless of whether I’ve met my goals or not. In fact, I believe it’s the intentional shining of light on non-goal-related moments that brings about the celebration.
For years, my year-end reflections focused almost exclusively on goals: Did I hit them? Did I exceed them? And if I missed them, what in the world happened? But I’ve learned that a year is so much more than its achievements.
With my revised process, I now consider moments that have nothing to do with the hitting (or missing) of goals — and therefore, I think they have deeper significance. I ask questions like:
How did I practice my values?
What new relationships emerged?
When did I feel most skillful?
These questions have changed how I see my year. They’ve taught me to celebrate not just what I did but who I am becoming.
I gave myself the gift of a pause.
I always used to think celebrating meant fanfare. Bring out the balloons and streamers, and let’s make some noise. As I get older, I’ve come to appreciate that celebration can also be quiet. Like the deliberate act of pausing, for instance. Of shutting the incessant external noise and listening to myself.
Modern life rarely gives us permission to stop and simply be. Reflection is my way of creating that permission for myself. My year-end reflection process has become a month-long invitation to sit with the year — its highs and lows, the gifts and the grunts — and to appreciate it all.
I think there’s something hopeful in this act. It says: Your life is worth pausing for. Your days are worth remembering.
• • •
The section that follows is for paying WAGO subscribers.
Below, you’ll find the links to the Notion template and the PDF worksheet that contains the core 20 questions PLUS a few more bonus questions to help you plan for the new year.
The Notion Template is set up so that you can complete it for 3 years in a row. This way, you can easily compare your answers to these questions from year to year.
If you’re not a paying subscriber yet, consider upgrading to a yearly subscription for just $3.33 a month. 🤗