Navigating above the fog (without waiting for tt to clear)

December has a particular quality.
Days grow short in light… and long in the tunnel that leads to the end of the year.
As if everything had to be completed by 31 December.
As if, by some kind of magic, 1 January would open a clean, immaculate, restorative blank page.

It is a beautiful image.
And we very much want to believe in it.

Yet the brain does not operate according to calendar dates.
It does not “turn the page” simply because the year changes. Neuroscience is clear: lasting change requires a conscious, embodied act. Without concrete anchoring, the brain recycles old patterns — even in a brand-new diary.

In other words, it is not the blank page that creates change.
It is what you deliberately choose to write on it… and what you consciously decide not to carry forward.

And still, at this time of year, the fog often returns:
accumulated fatigue, pressure to close everything, reviews to complete, projections to anticipate, good intentions piling up.

The fog is not necessarily an enemy.
It can also be an invitation to slow down, to listen differently, to suspend automatisms rather than force clarity.

Navigating above the fog does not always mean seeing further ahead.
Sometimes it means learning to look differently.

Gaining altitude without rushing to decide

There are moments when we are not ready to decide yet…
but we can already begin to harvest.

Gifts are unwrapped.
Days stretch in a slightly different rhythm.
We try to slow down — or, on the contrary, we accelerate, attempting to finish what was left undone, to catch up on what was postponed, to “make the most” of these suspended days.

Cards are written. Intentions are formulated.
And often, without noticing, another form of stress quietly appears. Softer. More silent. The fog settles again.

So what if, for a few minutes, we gained altitude differently.
Not to plan.
Not to decide.
Simply to look back.

To notice what has been received.
What has been crossed.
What has consolidated quietly.

First movement: what you leave and what you carry forward

A very simple exercise — to be done slowly, over several days if needed.

Two sheets of paper.

Page one — What you leave behind.
What has weighed on you.
Habits inherited from old patterns.
Situations where you do not position yourself clearly.
What belongs to the past yet continues to take up space.

Page two — What you carry forward.
What has nourished you.
What you wish to amplify.
What gives you momentum, energy and a sense of rightness.

Not to judge.
Simply to make visible what was diffuse.

Second movement: harvesting

Then, on another page, a different kind of attention.

Three columns.

What you received from the outside:
signs of trust,
quiet confirmations,
new relationships,
opportunities that said, “we believe in you”.

What you received from within:
insights,
fears that have softened,
places where you feel more grounded, more free.

What you offered to others:
time,
listening,
clarity,
courage,
sometimes simply your presence, at the right moment.

A few minutes are enough.
No stakes.
No performance.
Just recognition.

Because harvesting is also a gentle way of navigating above the fog.

What I am harvesting, on my side

Among the gifts I received this year:
new relationships,
new partnerships,
the trust of clients who now invite me to share more of my experience — and who I truly am.
Opportunities to create new programmes for HR leaders.
More fully assumed ambition.
The desire to go further. To see bigger. To play more precisely.

Among the gifts offered:
more sincerity in what I express,
more clarity in my positioning,
and a constant attention to creating, for the leaders and HR professionals I accompany, a space to think… and the momentum to act.

The fog as a quiet ally

The fog is not always meant to be eliminated.
Sometimes it prevents us from accelerating too fast.
It invites us to listen differently.
To sense what is ready — and what is not yet.

Rising above the fog does not necessarily mean seeking full clarity.
It means accepting a conscious pause, in order to choose what truly deserves to be carried forward — and what can gently be left behind.

At times, simply recognising the path already travelled is enough to feel the resources now available for what comes next.

And you…
which gifts this year deserve to be fully acknowledged, before stepping into the months ahead?

Le 3 décembre 2025 par Hélène Benier