Happy December 2nd, Wildlings.

It doesn’t snow where I live, but today the sky is a soft grey bruise, and the rain is tapping its tiny fingers against the windows. It’s the kind of day that begs you to burrow under your favorite blanket with a warm drink. (I’ve got a mug of Brooklyn Beans Black and White Cookie coffee beside me, in my “Death before Decaf” mug.)

I’ll admit December and I are not on speaking terms. Over the decades retail work sanded away whatever holiday sparkle I had left. After so many years of watching shoppers melt down over shopping carts and wrapping paper, the season feels less like cheer and more like a test of endurance. There are kind exceptions, but they grow fewer each year. And every year, I retreat a little farther from the festivities.

So lately, instead of leaning into the holiday machine, I look past it—toward January. A new year. A reset button. A chance to change everything, or change nothing at all.

This December, I’m choosing underconsumption. Purging instead of piling on. I’ll buy gifts for my kids and my husband, of course, but mostly I’m staring down my own clutter. The empty jars I saved for “someday crafts.” The hole-filled work shirts waiting to become rags. The storage shed full of objects I’m convinced “Future Me” will definitely use for something.

But honestly? I’m drowning in things. And you can’t welcome the new if both arms are wrapped around the old.

So this December, I’m letting go. Releasing. Making space for whatever the new year wants to bring in.

What about you, wildlings—what are you ready to release?