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As soon as December arrives, certain scenes repeat themselves with striking reliability. A collective sigh drifts through the air, to-do lists expand quietly overnight, and even small tasks suddenly feel heavier than they did a few weeks ago. There’s a particular December feeling that settles in early—an unmistakable blend of anticipation, fatigue, nostalgia, and mild chaos, no matter how smoothly the year has gone.
December is a month that’s neither fully “ending” nor truly “beginning.” It’s an in-between space. During this time, our psyche often operates like an advent calendar in fast-forward: behind every door lies a new emotion, a memory, an unfinished task, or something we thought we’d neatly tucked away. And because all of it shows up at once, December feels fuller, louder, and more intense.
Why December is a psychological threshold
From a psychological perspective, December is a threshold—an interval between past and future. And our brains aren’t particularly fond of such phases because they require two opposing movements at the same time.
The past pulls and whispers, “Was it enough?”
The future pushes and asks, “What needs to change next year?”
And December itself responds, “Preferably both, and preferably now.”
This inner tension is exhausting. It’s like being asked to hum two melodies at once while trying to maintain a steady rhythm. No wonder we feel mentally stretched as the year draws to a close.
When the body switches to winter mode
Layered onto this psychological shift is a biological one: winter fatigue.
Shorter days, less sunlight, and longer periods of darkness have a measurable impact on our bodies. Serotonin levels drop, melatonin levels rise—affecting mood, energy, and concentration.
Our circadian rhythms become disrupted. The inner clock that normally guides us through wakefulness and activity stumbles its way through December like navigating a dim hallway. The result: more tiredness, more emotional sensitivity, less resilience.
It’s not weakness. It’s physiology.
December and its emotional supersizing
December has a knack for serving emotions in generous portions.
A song in the supermarket can stir something unexpectedly tender.
An old box of photos can weigh heavily on the heart.
A spark of excitement shows up, followed by a wave of overwhelm.
It’s a month built on contrasts:
joy and stress,
connection and loneliness,
too much and too little,
light and darkness.
These emotional swings are not a sign of instability—they’re an entirely normal response to the unique cocktail this month brings.
Why we suddenly want to finish everything
One of December’s most universal phenomena is the sudden urge to tie up every loose end. Projects, conversations, ideas—everything feels urgent.
This drive is explained by the Zeigarnik effect, a psychological principle showing that unfinished tasks stay more present in our minds than completed ones. They create subtle but persistent mental tension.
In December, all these open loops seem to light up at once.
The year nearing its end casts a spotlight on every undone detail.
And we often overestimate how much can still be achieved, while underestimating how tired we already are.
Hence the familiar year-end rush.
Everyday moments that perfectly capture December
A simple errand suddenly feels like a mission.
A gift you’re certain you bought is nowhere to be found.
Your calendar fills itself without your consent.
The plan to “keep it simple this year” turns into three types of cookies and spontaneous decorations that multiply on their own.
December amplifies everything just a touch more than we expect.
When the world glows and the inner world quiets
While lights flicker everywhere, holiday markets brim with people, and social media showcases perfect gatherings, some feel lonelier in December than at any other time. This is rarely due to true isolation—it’s often the result of intensified social comparison.
According to Social Comparison Theory, we evaluate ourselves more harshly when idealized images surround us. Loneliness often arises not from being alone, but from the feeling of being less connected than others appear to be.
New Year’s resolutions: Big dreams, small steps
January 1st holds symbolic power. It looks like a clean slate, a new chapter. That’s why people love big resolutions. And every year, someone declares: “Starting January 1st, I’ll meditate every day!”
It sounds good. It almost never happens.
Motivational psychology makes the reason clear:
Large, extrinsically motivated goals create pressure, not change.
Small steps, however, trigger dopamine—our system’s reward mechanism.
Five minutes of movement work.
A tiny, consistent routine works.
One intentional thought per day works.
True transformation rarely begins with a dramatic pledge.
It begins with micro-steps.
What truly helps in December
A “good-enough” mindset—perfection is a heavy burden in this month.
Small, ritualized pauses. A 10-minute weekly reflection: What went well? What can go? What do I need?
The 3-D method: delegate, deprioritize, deep breath.
Seek light—short strolls, daylight, fresh air.
Honor your limits: “Not today” is a complete sentence.
These small practices soften the edges of December and give it back seine Menschlichkeit—its human side.
A thought to end on
December doesn’t need to be perfect. It can be human—full of open loops, shifting moods, and a tempo that moves a little faster than we’d prefer. It’s a month that gathers everything together and still invites us to slow down.
What matters isn’t how much we finish, but how consciously we move through this time.
And perhaps the most meaningful question right now is this:
What do I want to let go of – and what deserves more space in my life in the coming year?
