Vellichor Ink

Somehow, it’s that time of year again. A time of reflection and looking back on the year.

The last couple of years I’ve done an exciting wordy wrap-up and tallied all the words I penned and sat back and looked on to that number with giddy pride. This year the tallying of words took far less time and giddy is nowhere in the room with me.

Words written… 12,400

For anyone wondering, that pales in comparison to the last four years where I’ve written like a mad woman and hit close to (or above) 100,000 words each year.

I typed out a whole lot of other words and numbers to wrap up the year but I don’t think it’s necessary. I think this year is just too hard to quantify in a blog post. Suffice it to say, the name of the game this year was just powering through. Which left very little room for creativity.

My hope is that 2026 will be gentle. Quiet. I am quite sure that it won’t be, but one can always hope, yeah?

This seems to just be the season of…unrest. Of chaos and upset and trying to find our footing on an ever-shifting plane. But perhaps the season is changing. Shifting to something gentler. Quieter. The storm doesn’t feel like its raging anymore (*knocks on wood*) and though it still feels like sand under our feet and nothing solid, or maybe we’re just getting better at navigating shifting sands and this great time of change.

It’s funny. The last twenty years have been a big question mark because of the Navy. We never knew where we were going to be stationed or what the deployment schedule was going to look like. And that was a manageable unknown. We learned fairly quickly how to adjust and manage our expectations with the Navy and that life. We had roles to play, uniforms to don, and though there were difficult times, it was a known difficult. This whole last year has been so full of unknowns and loss of identity and a lot of trying and failing and navigating waters we’ve never seen before that didn’t look anything how we’d dreamt. And it was anything but manageable.

I do feel as if we’re coming up for air. I told people a lot this year that I felt like we were drowning. We had some buoys thrown to us that kept us afloat and I am forever grateful. My deepest Christmas wish this year is that we find joy–the obvious joy of Christmas lights and gifts and treats. And the surprise joys that catch us off guard and remind us to be present and open. And while I’m wishing… I wish for peace and creativity for the coming year. Because I would really love to update my wrap-up for 2026 with a whole lot of words written and stories told.

Wishing you and yours a wonderful holiday season and a gentle new year!