Last Day of 2025

Water, Movement, and Letting Go

The weather was moody four seasons rolling through in a single day. Sunshine breaks through clouds, the wind rises without warning, rain drifts in and then disappears. It feels like the year itself: unpredictable, heavy at times, surprisingly gentle at others.

I started the day in the pool, letting the water hold me, I headed to the beach, and these last weeks have been slow, indulgent even: eating, resting, moving less than usual. At first, I felt a twinge of guilt, thinking I hadn’t “done enough.” But mindful movement, and space to remember what it means to feel alive in my own skin.

Walking in water isn’t about calories or “fixing” anything. It’s about reconnecting noticing muscles that have been dormant, feeling the rhythm of my own steps, and letting the body move the energy it’s been holding. a soft reminder that movement doesn’t have to be punishment.

The wind was strong, the sea restless. The heaviness, the lessons, the exhaustion, the growth. I didn’t push; I didn’t force release. I simply allowed the elements to carry what was ready to go.

There’s something about water that helps me come back into myself. It supports, resists, carries all at once. It doesn’t judge the weeks that came before. It doesn’t ask for resolutions, goals, or perfection. It simply holds, and I float.

I’m ending 2024 quietly, softly, without fireworks or forced resolutions. I’m ending it with water, breath, and gentle movement with the understanding that my body has always known what I needed, even when I forgot to listen. And as the waves wash over my feet, I feel ready to step into 2025 with the same quiet patience: present, soft, and whole.