Sacred Rituals
Every family’s new year tradition offers a glimpse of their deepest aspirations.
As an adult who’s looking back, I’ve realized that ours has always been about attracting greater prosperity. My mom dressed my sisters and me with polka dots that were as big as the nickel-brass coins in our pockets. We had to hold them tight when we jumped up and down at midnight believing that if we jumped high enough, we’d defy the curse of our DNA. Obviously, we didn’t.
Let me guess—the orange didn’t quite make it onto the fruit plate?
Today, only mom’s 13 round fruits on the media noche table lives through. She has since then elevated this tradition with some western trimmings, adding a plate of 13 Ferrero Rochers, eggs, crisp 100-dollar bills rolled with red ribbons, and a cup of Jasmine rice.
Considering 2025’s egg inflation, the upgrade does prove that our family’s dreams have come true.
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‘Unworking’
I have my own personal tradition—which I prefer to call a ritual. It happens in the days between Christmas and the first working Monday of the new year.
Instead of unplugging completely, I use these days for unworking. Technically, I still get some work done—seeing clients over lighter conversations, cleaning up my inbox, and organizing finances. These small routine tasks help me stay anchored on reality while I tune in to the real purpose of unworking: to heed the yearnings of my body and spirit.
It’s how I find inspiration for my yearly vision boards. As a strategic thinker (validated by various leadership strengths assessments), I move through life guided by the big picture. This vision enables me to define goals that feel deeply motivating for me.
New Beginnings Necessitate Endings
A night cap to another new beginning.
William Bridges’ seminal work on transitions has been a constant companion throughout approaching midlife as an immigrant woman. Still being in transition, I’ve been receptive to solitude as a way of deep listening and discernment.
This liminal space over the holidays invited me to sit through this transformative unworking that also serves my coaching practice. If you’re outside the coaching profession, it helps to know that all great coaching starts with presence. When a coach is able to step out of their ego and come from a place of unknowing, that’s when we’re truly able to coach (instead of mentor, teach, or consult).
However, being prone to seasonal blues, especially when the holiday bustle dies down, I found this year’s ritual extra challenging. I went back to Chicago earlier than planned after explaining my situation to my family. My bags felt heavy because I carried guilt with me.
Grace changed everything. Amid the regret, I found myself attuned to love and forgiveness once again after struggling with the resurgence of some past trauma. (Related post remains unpublished.)
I purged, cleaned, and organized in the days that followed. Some new furniture came that kept me busy until the wee hours of the morning. Invitations came and were unacknowledged, if not declined.
Truth be told, there was something in me that’s been needing to die—
it’s the ember of an old flame.
Leaving my family in California to live on my own had been a lonely transition. In my rush to escape liminality, I lit some fires, hoping they’d mark some direly yearned for new beginnings.
But the winds extinguished most and bent the last one’s blaze.
I had to let it die before it burns me.
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I started 2025 with nothing and accomplished feats beyond my imagination. In the end, I surrendered everything back to my Maker.
"Ready must thou be to burn thyself in thine own flame; how couldst thou become new if thou have not first become ashes!”
– Friedrich Nietzsche in Thus Spoke Zarathustra
