Feeling the Holiday Rush? Here’s How to Slow Down This Week
The weeks leading into Thanksgiving always carry a unique energy. Not quite the hustle of December, but not slow, either. It’s a season where I often find myself looking ahead scanning the calendar to see which days will require more of me, which days might give me space, where the pockets of quiet might show up. I don’t always feel rushed, but I do notice the pull to prepare, organize, and anticipate. And I’ve learned that if I’m not intentional, the days can blend together without me ever really being in them.
Maybe you feel something similar this time of year. The mix of looking forward, looking back, and trying to stay present in the middle.
Clinically, I see a full spectrum of experiences right now, families who get along, families who don’t, people navigating complicated traditions, people grieving the first holiday without someone they love. Some clients feel grateful. Some feel sad. Most feel some combination of both. And woven through almost every story is this quiet question: “How do I meet the expectations of the season, mine or anyone else’s without losing myself in the process?”
That’s where gratitude comes in, but not the performative kind. Not the kind that demands you “just be thankful” or pretend your experience is cleaner than it is.
To me, gratitude is a grounding practice, not a performance. It’s a posture, a way of noticing the moments you might otherwise miss. Sometimes those moments are big, but most of the time, they’re so ordinary you could walk right past them.
Like last week. On Monday, Charlotte finally had that first real cold snap. During one of my breaks, I decided to take a quick walk around the little park beside my office. I bundled up, thinking a few minutes of fresh air might help me reset. I didn’t make it far. The cold hit me faster than I expected, and I had that small moment of, “Okay… this isn’t going to go the way I planned.”
But right as I turned back, something made me pause. The sun was shining through these bright yellow leaves. I stopped, pulled out my phone, and took a picture. It was simple and quiet and honestly, really beautiful. Just one of those tiny moments that softens the disappointment and helps you settle back into yourself, the kind that reminds me of the pace I want to move through the season with.
And that’s the thing about gratitude. It doesn’t erase the other feelings. It just makes room for them. You can feel grateful and sad. You can be reflective and overwhelmed. You can hold the beauty of a season and acknowledge the parts you wish were different. Gratitude doesn’t ask us to choose. It simply invites us to notice.
As we move into Thanksgiving week and everything the holidays might stir up, I want to offer a gentle pause. A moment to breathe before the fullness arrives. A moment to slow down enough to actually see your own life.
A Few Prompts to Help You Begin:
What is one small moment today that felt unexpectedly meaningful?
What emotion is sitting beside your gratitude this year?
Where can you create space, even five minutes, to be quiet and present?
What are you looking ahead to, and how can you soften that anticipation with intention?
And if your season feels mixed, complicated, or heavier than it looks on paper, that’s okay too. You are not the only one holding a layered experience. Gratitude doesn’t demand simplicity; it only asks that we show up honestly.
So before the feast, before the gatherings, before the noise and busyness, pause. Notice. Give yourself permission to see what is beautiful, what is bittersweet, and what is true. And if this resonates, save it for the day you need the reminder or share it with someone who might.
About the Author:
Sarah Currie, Ph.D., LCMHC, is a licensed clinical mental health therapist who helps individuals, couples, and families slow down, understand their inner world, and find meaningful ways forward. Her work blends practical tools with a warm, reflective approach to support emotional wellness.