For the next two weeks, I’m still in Fiji. Just two weeks. There’s something about knowing a moment won’t last forever that sharpens our awareness of its magic. It’s in the small, fleeting touchpoints that a place, a season, or a time in life becomes unforgettable.
Here in Fiji, I’m soaking up everything—the heady scent of gardenias drifting through the villa, drives to the hilltop café with fresh lemongrass tea and my notebook, and midnight swims under a canopy of stars. Each moment feels like a tiny celebration of this island’s spirit, a love letter from this tropical paradise.
Even surrounded by all this beauty, I’ll admit that this morning I was feeling flat. The kind of flat where your energy has evaporated, leaving you staring at a long list of to-dos with zero motivation. So, I paused and asked myself: What do I need in this moment?
The answer surprised me: something simple. Soon, I was in the kitchen concocting a banana-coconut protein shake, topped with a splash of leftover coffee and a sprinkle of nutmeg. A few sips in, I could feel my energy returning. That small act of listening to myself—really listening—shifted everything. I felt lighter, reconnected, alive.
This time of year can sweep us off our feet with holiday obligations, work deadlines, and endless social events. It’s easy to get caught in the current, carried along without ever pausing to catch our breath. But what if we choose to pause?
What if we intentionally claim and celebrate the moment? I like to call it a micro-pause—a deliberate moment to breathe, reflect, and reconnect with what we need. A micro-pause is more than just a break; it’s a small celebration, a homecoming, a way to retrieve your sense of self. It’s a micro-party. And in that space, joy, inspiration, and creativity come rushing back in.
Micro-pauses don’t have to be extravagant. Adding flowers to your desk or hanging a sprig of mistletoe can feel like a tiny celebration of life. Rearranging tiles in Bananagrams always gives me a tactile, welcome respite. Dancing to a favorite song, lighting a candle, or stepping outside to feel the crisp air on your face—these are all acts of reclaiming joy.
Or maybe it’s something delicious, like hunting for the best cinnamon bun (oooooh, yum!) or dunking marshmallows into a spiked hot chocolate. These small rituals nourish the soul, wrapping us in comfort and delight.
As we move into the holiday season, consider this: gift yourself a multitude of tiny holidays. These aren’t grand vacations; they’re small moments of joy and expression that celebrate your spirit. A quiet cup of tea, savored without distraction. Five minutes to sit by the window, watch the snowfall, and cut out a paper snowflake. A handwritten note to a friend.
Each moment is a celebration, a reminder that amidst the chaos, life is beautiful.
With just two weeks left in Fiji, I’m holding these moments close, knowing they’ll inspire me long after I leave. And wherever you are, I hope you’ll take a moment today to pause and ask yourself: What do I need right now? What can I celebrate right now?
You might be surprised by how much joy—and energy—awaits on the other side of those questions.