Advent Calendar Blog 2025 — Finish What You Started

I ran out of time in 2025. I had many ideas I wanted to explore and started many projects I would like too see through. Still more were not started, but sit waiting.

To begin, I must complete unpacking. Subsequently, I intend to complete the Family History book that was 80% completed prior to my relocation. Additionally, there are two other books that require writing. I must admit that, along the way, I impulsively purchased three “paint-by-numbers kits” believing they were suitable winter projects. Furthermore, I stocked up on gemstones and beads to craft jewelry, simply to fulfill my artistic aspirations.

So I am thinking that my personal growth this year, starts by finishing what I already invited into my life. I wonder if completing what we’ve already started might not be one of the most underrated forms of change there is.

We tend to think of fresh beginnings as new ideas, new habits, new chapters. But there’s another kind of beginning that comes not from starting something—but from finishing it. From closing loops. From releasing the quiet weight of “unfinished.”

Every incomplete project, conversation, or intention takes up space—mental, emotional, energetic. It lingers in the background, asking for attention even when we’re not consciously thinking about it. Choosing completion isn’t about productivity; it’s about relief.

The benefit of finishing what we’ve started
is freedom.

Completion clears mental clutter. It restores focus. It returns energy that’s been quietly leaking away. And perhaps most importantly, it builds self-trust. Every time you finish something—no matter how small—you reinforce the belief that you can follow through. That belief is foundational. It’s steady, and completion grounds us.

A tree doesn’t rush spring. It doesn’t cling to autumn. Each phase completes the one before it. Leaves bud, grow, change colour, fall, and finally decompose into the soil. That completion—the letting go of the leaf—is what grounds the tree for winter. The fallen leaves become nourishment, insulation, and stability for what comes next. Nothing new could grow if the previous cycle remained unfinished.

In nature, completion isn’t dramatic or forced—it’s settling. It creates rootedness. It allows energy to return to the earth rather than remain suspended.

This mirrors us. When something we’ve started remains unfinished, it’s like a leaf still hanging on in November—our energy stays caught, restless.

Completing something—closing a chapter, finishing a thought, releasing what’s done—returns us to ourselves. It anchors us in the present moment and quietly prepares the ground for a fresh beginning.

Completion, in nature and in us, is what allows stillness, nourishment, and renewal to coexist.

As a resolution, completion is surprisingly gentle. It doesn’t ask you to add more. It asks you to honour what’s already begun.

This is where it fits beautifully into a year of the Horse.

The Horse represents momentum, movement, and forward motion—but true momentum requires lightness. You can’t run freely while carrying everything behind you.

Completing what you’ve started isn’t about slowing the Horse down; it’s about unburdening it. In this sense, finishing is an act of preparation. It clears the path so movement can be clean, unforced, and aligned.

And this is where fresh beginnings reveal their deeper meaning.

A fresh beginning isn’t always about turning toward something new. Sometimes it’s about finally turning toward what you’ve been avoiding—not with judgment, but with respect. Completion creates space, and space is where beginnings actually live.

You don’t start fresh by piling on more.
You start fresh by creating room.

So perhaps this year isn’t about chasing the next thing.

Perhaps it’s about finishing what still matters—and letting the rest go.

Because there’s nothing more freeing than stepping forward unencumbered, knowing that what’s behind you is complete.