We’re one week away from Christmas. The calendar is filling up with extended family plans, school events, last-minute errands, and that familiar end-of-year feeling where everything speeds up at once.

In the middle of it, I realised I wanted to try a small experiment: once a month, I’ll stop and write down a few things, three small joys, that quietly helped me get through. Not because I struggle to find them, quite the opposite, but because I want to notice them while they’re happening.

I don’t know yet if I’ll be perfectly consistent (history may or may not suggest otherwise), but I do know I’ll always have something to list. So this is my first attempt.

This month didn’t come with big milestones or neat conclusions. It was more about easing back in, paying attention, and letting things be imperfect. Still, three small joys quietly carried me through.

1. Being back on the bike, and under the bar

I’m gradually ramping back up with my training after the knee injury, and it feels good to move again without forcing anything. Cycling has become part of the rhythm again, especially in those quieter moments where I can let my mind slow down.

Alongside that, I’ve started easing back into lifting with Andy, my coach. He’s happy with how things are progressing, but more importantly, he reminded me that the real priority right now is to fall back in love with lifting.

Not chasing numbers, not rushing recovery: just reconnecting with why I enjoy it. That permission to go slowly, to rebuild trust in my body, has been a bigger gift than any plan or program.

2. Lavinia’s explanation of Christmas

Out of nowhere, Lavinia told me that people say “Merry Christmas” because at Christmas Mary had baby Jesus.

She said it simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. In a season that can feel loud and overcomplicated, that small explanation stopped me in my tracks.

It reminded me how children hold meaning so clearly, without layers or overthinking. I wrote it down immediately: these are of the three small joys this month I never want to lose to time. I struggled not to laugh out loud.

3. Creating, even in fragments

There wasn’t a big creative breakthrough this month, and that’s okay. Between work, family life, training, and the general end-of-year swirl, there rarely is.

What mattered was staying close to it, writing a few lines here and there, publishing something even when it felt quiet, letting ideas exist without demanding they turn into something finished. It was a reminder that creativity doesn’t need ideal conditions; it just needs a little space and a bit of kindness.

None of these things are extraordinary on their own. But together, they were enough. Enough to feel grounded in a busy season, enough to carry me into the holidays, enough for this month.

If you feel like sharing, I’d love to know: what’s one small joy that helped you through lately?