🧩 puzzle pieces and professional rest

A love letter to rest, puzzles, and the art of doing nothing...

Dec 30, 2024

🕎 Happy Hanukkah!

Tonight is the sixth night of Hanukkah, and I'm leaning hard into the Jewish tradition of giving myself permission to pause.

After a year of running full-tilt (ending with an intense About Page Workshop on December 15th that left me completely spent), I've learned something crucial: rest isn't just a luxury—it's professional maintenance.

(Speaking of which, I'm mulling over a deep-dive follow-up workshop. Interested? Drop a reply to let me know)

A couple of days ago, I stumbled into a conversation with a fellow Substack writer—

Cameron Mackworth - Write Place • Write Time

We did a little back and forth about the weird, wonderful week between Christmas and New Year's.

She shared something I’m still thinking about: Every year, she tells herself she'll get ahead with her writing during this period.

And every year, she does something more important—she savors the quiet moments. Catches up on a good book. Enjoys leftovers. Makes space to dream.

Her words struck a chord. Because sometimes, the most important writing work happens when you're not writing at all.

🧘 The Art of Productive Laziness

Let's talk a bit about how I've been spending these liminal days—not with a checklist, but with intentional rest.

📚 Books that Restored Me

Two books became my companions through this slow, reflective week:

Foster by Claire Keegan: A breathtaking novella that's less about plot and more about the exquisite connections we form outside our expected family circles.

It's masterful how she tells a story in 92 pages with such depth that it shows how people can briefly enter your life and transform everything. Told through a child's eyes, it explores how we heal each other in unexpected moments.

(Cool note: This book is now part of the school syllabus in Ireland.)

All the Beauty in the World by Patrick Bringley: A memoir about working as a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. On the surface, it's about art and healing. Underneath, it's a profound meditation on grief, routine, and finding stillness.

Bringley's writing reminds me that sometimes healing looks like showing up, day after day, surrounded by beauty.

🧩 Unexpected Therapy: Puzzles

Here's something surprising: I discovered I'm a puzzle person. A 500-piece astrology puzzle (last year’s gift from my friend Elizabeth) became my zen practice. A day and a half of complete immersion, where the only goal was to match tiny pieces of color and shape.

No deadline. No expectation. Just presence.

Pro tip: If you have a puzzle gathering dust, break it out. Put on a playlist. Make some snacks. Allow yourself to get lost in something utterly unproductive and beautiful.

✨ A Note on Manifestation

My cousin Janet surprised me with a Manifestation Journal—complete with a cheeky candle that says, "Sometimes you forget you're awesome."

Thanks for the reminder, Janet. 💜

As 2025 approaches, I'm using this journal to daydream.

Not plan. Not strategize. Just imagine.

Because good writing (and the creative life) starts with allowing kernels of impossible things to take root.

Your Turn

Tell me how you’re navigating this strange, suspended week between holidays.

Are you reflecting?

Resting?

Plotting your next creative move?

Whatever you're doing, I hope you're being gentle with yourself. Writers need fallow periods.

We need to stare out windows.

We need to complete puzzles.

We need to remember that we’re more than the number of articles we’ve written, emails we’ve sent, or posts we’ve published.

Here's to the quiet moments, the unexpected joys, and the restoration that comes from truly slowing down.

Warmly,

P.S. Drop a comment below or hit reply to this email and tell me one thing (big or small) you’ve been doing to rest.