Advent Blog 2025 — The Beauty of Acting Spontaneously

There’s something humbling about this time of year.

We make our lists. We schedule the outings. We imagine the perfect holiday moments…and then winter does what winter does.

A snowstorm rolls in. Someone catches a cold. Roads close, plans shift, and suddenly the day we had curated with such care dissolves into something completely different.

And yet — have you noticed?

Some of the most magical moments of the season happen in those unscripted spaces.

We often treat spontaneity like a backup plan, something we fall into only when the “real” plan collapses. But maybe it deserves more credit. Maybe spontaneity is one of life’s sweetest invitations — a nudge from the universe saying, “Hey, before schedules tighten and responsibilities pull you elsewhere… let’s do this now.”

This is especially true at Christmas.

Because December is full of variables: weather, travel delays, sniffles making their rounds, last-minute responsibilities. It’s almost predictable that something will get rearranged. And if we wait for the perfect window, the perfect timing, the perfect level of energy… we might miss the moment entirely.

When we act spontaneously, we’re not being reckless; we’re being awake. We’re allowing life to meet us where we are, without needing all the answers, the perfect plan, or the imagined safety of predictability. Spontaneity is the gentle art of paying attention and responding with an open heart.

A sudden urge to take a drive and look at Christmas lights.

So when an idea pops into your mind — out of nowhere, out of the blue — maybe that is your moment.

• An unexpected craving to bake cookies with no recipe in mind.

• A thought that says, “Let’s stop by and visit,” even if it wasn’t on today’s list.

• A feeling that whispers, “Bundle up and take a walk — right now.”

These little nudges are often the beginnings we overlook.

The fresh starts disguised as impulses and the tiny adventures that become the stories we remember.

Because spontaneity is freedom.

It’s aliveness — the kind that turns ordinary days into something quietly extraordinary.

Being spontaneous is really just mindfulness in motion — a willingness to say yes to the moment instead of overthinking it. It’s trusting that the present has something to offer before fear or habit talks us out of it.

There are any times I regret not acting on impulses. I can recall a few times for example, when I’d run into someone I knew, someone warm and familiar. We’d chat, laugh, reconnect… and then they’d say, “Why don’t you come back to our place for a drink?”

A simple invitation. A spontaneous one. And I’d freeze up. Not because I didn’t want to go and not because I didn’t enjoy them.

But because something in me — an old insecurity, an unexplained discomfort, maybe just fear of being out of my element — made me say, “Oh… no, thank you. I should get going.”

And then I’d walk away… wishing I had said yes.

I can’t even fully explain why it felt easier to retreat than to lean in. But I remember the regret afterward, sometimes instantly— the quiet ache of a missed moment. A missed connection.

And maybe that’s what this season is really about:

Not creating the perfect Christmas, but letting ourselves experience the one that’s unfolding.

Not clinging to plans that crumble, but embracing the unexpected with softness and a sense of wonder.

So this December, if a spontaneous idea presents itself, accept it as a gift and treat yourself to it. Say yes to the sudden spark!

Take advantage of the moment while it’s warm in your hands — before weather shifts, before someone catches a cough, before life rearranges itself again (as it always will).

Because sometimes the best memories aren’t planned.

They happen because we were open enough — brave enough — to follow the unexpected beginning right in front of us.