#12: Twixmas Notes
A random roundup of post-Christmas December thoughts, dids and to-dos PLUS how to kick off 2025 with the right mindset (according to a neuroscientist)
Happy Sixth Day of Christmas, friends. I am coming to you from my little desk in my front room, which is pretty on any given day but so much better at this time of the year, when the queen of my heart adds some much-needed sparkle to my day. The ‘queen of my heart’ is the name I give my eldest daughter every month except December, when she is figuratively overshadowed by the synthetic tree that I have had for 14 years and which I have decorated with an abudance of mismatched but personal ornaments that lend it a whimsical feel.
It’s taken me years to get the tree looking exactly as I want it, but I am sure someone with more refined taste will look at it with disdain. Don’t get me wrong: the aesthetic, matchy-matchy, luxury-store-vibe trees I see on influencers’ Instagram do appeal, but the tree that sits in my little room says so much about the people who gather around it (and the contradictory personalities of the woman who decorated it) that I feel lends it so much charm. When you shop for ornaments and decorations online, you are expected to choose your style and stay in your lane. I have shopped in all the lanes, and my tree boasts traditional reds and golds, bows in modern blue hues, elevated baubles of glass, sequins and pearls, and rows of ‘natural’ wooden bead garlands interspersed with the ubiquitous fairy lights. It’s got silly ornaments (pizza, donuts) and ornaments of religious significance, ones that remind me of holidays taken long ago and family members now gone, and personalised baubles. None of it works and yet somehow it all does, and it’s a reminder of many years spent living and loving and feeling, that I am so content and at peace in her presence. I truly feel like she’s worth singing about.
Of course, Christmas is not just about the tree and the decorations. There are so many other things to it. I’ve been a mum for almost 11 years and have so thankfully managed to avoid any Elf on the Shelf business but the Advent calendar comes out on November 30 and my kids are as religious about the confections inside as I am about trying to impart on them the religious significance of Advent. I recently discovered that my ancestors fasted in the two weeks leading up to Christmas and partaking in my own version of this ritual has enhanced my experience of the season on a more spiritual level. Fasting lends everything a little more temperance but it’s so much more necessary at Christmas, when everything comes at you hard, fast and haphazardly. If you want to live a little slower, as I do, then you have to check yourself in a way that works best. For me that’s avoiding the shops at Christmas time (I try have all the shopping done by end November, I try to shop small/ethically where possible, and I am very select about what I bring into my house — this meme is actual footage of me when they unwrap gifts), limiting any (easy) overindulgence, donating to a charity, and parttaking in some sort of Advent meditation or prayer ritual.
That’s not to say my experience of the season is purely spiritual and anti-capitalist, no matter how noble I would like to be. I love nice things and the shops do appeal to me at this time of year (I am a sucker for Mecca packaging, anything David Jones does, and this year I loved the AlemaisXGo-To Skincare collab) , but my configuration of Christmas has been slightly off-kelter. I still celebrate it as a day of religious significance (and totally respect that there are people who do not, to each their own), and I do try to make it joyful, but apart from the absolute song my soul does at a Christmas carol, the joy looks very different nowadays and every feeling is moderated against and by the horrors I have seen in Gaza and my heartache over Lebanon. Some might say I have gone Grinch and must embrace the Christmas spirit, but I would counter that I am embracing it more truthfully: Christ came to turn our attention away from the things of this world and to a greater, common good — love of God and love of neighbour. His is a spirit of love, poverty, simplicity, and so on, and the early Christians were so much more communal in their approach to their faith, pooling their resources and building social and political frameworks that accounted for others. I can’t, in good conscience, continue to celebrate it in the way I always have when I am so much more aware of other peoples’ sufferings and when I am becoming more aware of the concept of collective liberation and the responsibility to work towards it. Anyway, this level of maturity on my part sent my husband into an absolute spin: he was determined to buy me a gift I could unwrap in front of the children, but there was nothing I wanted that I did not already buy myself (three books, a puzzle, a diptyque candle, and a soap because I liked the packaging).
He ended up surprising me with a voucher for one-on-one boxing lessons, and honestly, I am not mad about it. I am extremely uncoordinated and will probably flap about for a few sessions before I find my hooks and jabs and whatnot, but I am also filled with so much rage nowadays that it could be good.
FEEDS, READS, SHARES AND WARES
Also simple but good:
Twixmas. This period between Christmas and New Years where we seem to exist on leftovers, no plans, little chores and an anything-goes attitude to life is one of the best parts of the year. I am simply content with having the out-of-office on, doing a lot of puzzles, buying nothing but clearance wrapping paper, watching all the cozy Christmas content from the northern hemisphere (see here, here and here for examples) while soaking up the sunshine, doing nothing in the mornings, and drinking (and finishing) many cups of tea.
This collection of letters ‘from Father Christmas’ that Tolkien wrote to his kids, complete with illustrations. I think it will be an annual re-read at our place.
My Christmas table centrepiece, which was just a Nativity lantern once gifted by a dear (non-Christian) friend inside a homemade wreath, and two candles with bows on them. I love that bows are having a moment. I go absolute gangbusters for them.
The boxes that Smeed maamoul come in. If you’re in Sydney, Smeed just opened up a store in Belmore. I featured them in an article about maamoul in The Guardian almost two years back, and I love them because they offer twists on the traditional fillings. I bought their festive box for myself this year, for when my ‘fast’ was over, and I loved the raspberry and marshmallow dome and the raspberry and macadamia maamoul a lot. I have no regrets about the maamoul, and I plan on keeping the box, because the illustrations are by Natasha, whose work I have loved a long time.
This recipe for Biscotti. I served biscotti after Christmas lunch as part of a bigger spread: store-bought pavolva nets topped with whipped cream, lemon curd and fresh berries; a trifle; chunks of gingerbread from the gingerbread house I decorated with my kids; a Levantine lazy cake topped with crushed candy canes.
This Australian made and owned non-alcoholic pink gin substitute is low calorie and excellent with tonic.
Thomas Mayo’s Always Was Always Will Be is an excellent book that unpacks the ‘what now’ question many have been asking themselves since the Voice to Parliament referendum in Australia. Mayo charts the experiences of First Nations people, discusses the role of hope in movements for change, and shares practical information on what non-Indigenous people can do to close the gap. If you want to do something better as an ally and don’t know where to start, this book might be a good place. I am hoping for a greater political awakening, but am exhausted by my current commitments, so feel like reading and learning are a good place to start.
The Gavin and Stacey 2024 special is as every bit as good as the original series. It’s fair to wonder if a show can recreate its original magic 14 years after it ended, but they managed to pull it off well.
Making headway on my ambitious summer reading list, despite all the work-related reading I have to do at this time (I am judging a literary prize). So far I have read Shankari Chandran’s Safe Haven (you’ll love it if you loved her Miles Franklin-winning Chai Time at Cinnamon Gardens); Jumaana Abdu’s Translations (a thoughtful and expertly-crafted debut, with exceedingly sophisticated language); Michelle de Kretser’s Theory and Practice (a brilliant blur between memoir and fiction from one of Australia’s most lauded and celebrated writers); and Hasib Hourani’s Rock Flight (an immersive and powerful poem that dissects and unpacks imperialism, occupation, displacement, settler violence and boycotts). Have enjoyed them all.
The second season of Stan’s mystery-crime mini-series Black Snow hits screens on January 1st. In this itiration, Vikings star Travis Flimmel reprises his role as Detective Sergeant James Cormack, who is investigating the disappearance of Zoe Jacobs in 2003. He’s aided by Zoe’s best friend Samara Kahlil, whose character I consulted on. It’s my first screen credit, and it feels kinda surreal.
KICKING OFF 2025
I may still be in Christmas but everyone around me is looking firmly ahead to 2025. I started looking to 2025 in September, when I sat on the floor of my front room and cut words and phrases I wanted to take into the new year out of fashion magazines. Normally I find practices like this a little ‘woo’, but I felt compelled to do it because I had mentally checked out of 2024 and really wanted something to hope for and look towards. It also reminded me of making collages as a kid, and the simplicity of a time long gone. I stuck the words into the notebook I will be using in the new year and looking back on them now reaffirms that I know (and knew) exactly what I need. Here are some of the words and phrases I cut out, in case you’re curious:
healing
personal space
ideas
comfort
wellbeing as a way of life
telling stories
community
effortless style
interior life
deep dives
childlike delight, joy and ease
purpose
unfollow
quietly subversive
lucky
resilient creative.
I’ve since interviewed neuroscientist Dr Simone Boer, who told me that finding a theme for a new year gives your brain “a frame or lens to see the world through”, flagging what’s meaningful and helping you “focus on experiences, information, and opportunities that align with that theme”. Boer says that thinking about how you want your year to play out sets an intent, which in turn creates action by firing up your brain’s “planning and visualisation centres as if you are already doing the task or achieving the goal”.
She also suggests practising a little reflection ahead of a new year, contemplating what your proudest moment was and thinking about what didn’t work, and what your biggest learnings from that are.
New Year’s Eve is just around the corner and I am feeling under the weather, so will likely (and gladly) stay home. But I will absolutely dress for the occasion, in sequin pants and this top with feather trim I bought on Depop for $25. Not sure if a sparkly necklace will be OTT, but I am going to give it a spin and find out.
I started drafting this post when I had just filed my last piece of 2024: a listicle of hacks to take into the new year, to enhance life in little but concrete ways across the lifestyle space. Keep your eyes peeled for it, hopefully there’s something in there you can take into 2025.
I am hoping the new year will bring me the energy to write more frequently. I have lost so much of my confidence (or at least, the obliviousness that I had at the start of my writing career), I am a little burnt out and depressed, and there are way too many things competing for my time. I at least hope to take less than a week to produce a Substack entry that doesn’t even require any proper journalism skills.
Sending you all my love and best wishes for a bright and peaceful year ahead. Happy New Year!
Love how you're starting the year with intention. Good riddance 2024 x
Love all of this Sarah 😍 thank you for sharing your words this year - wishing you a safe and love-filled new year x