Sunday is the Solstice — the darkest day of the year — before our beautiful Earth begins its long, slow climb back into the light. In many ancient traditions, this moment marked the true New Year: not a calendar flip, but a turning point.
Light returns.
And this year, that matters.
A Difficult Year for Sensitive Souls
2025 has been a particularly rough year for many of us. It’s not surprising if you’re ending it feeling exhausted, raw, or strangely unsteady.
We’ve been inundated with horrific images. Norms we once relied on for stability have been violated again and again. The overall effect has been a pervasive sense of unsafety — not just politically or socially, but emotionally.
And while it feels endless, it helps to remember this:
in the span of a lifetime, five years is a very short time.
It’s only been five years since a global pandemic placed our very existence in question. Many of us were still recovering from a prolonged fight-or-flight response when the world was thrown into further chaos. What once felt “crazy” somehow got even crazier.
That constant state of activation takes a toll.
Why This Has Been Especially Hard on Empaths
If you’re an empath, this year may have felt truly overwhelming.
Empaths naturally absorb the emotional atmosphere around them. Other people’s suffering draws us in. Compassion isn’t optional — it’s automatic.
And that means one of our greatest challenges is keeping the outside, outside.
This year has been a near-constant boundary violation.
There has been a deliberate strategy — politically and culturally — to keep people off balance, upset, and reactive. A lack of empathy and compassion at a societal level doesn’t just distress empaths; it can destabilize us.
When the collective feels unhinged, empaths feel it in their nervous systems.
A Choice at the Turning Point
At this Solstice, we face a choice.
We can tell ourselves:
“The world has gone mad, and I need to hide.”
Or we can reframe this moment as:
“This is a difficult — but perfect — environment for learning new skills.”
Skills that help us survive and stay open.
The Core Skill Empaths Need Right Now
To navigate what’s coming, empaths must learn to distinguish:
What energy is mine — and what does not belong to me.
Right now, there is a lot of chaotic energy in the air. That means we need to perform regular internal “fact checks.”
Ask yourself:
• Am I actually in danger right now?
• Am I personally unstable — or do I just feel unstable?
And yes — it’s okay if you are occasionally a little crazy. We all are.
But if you’re not objectively falling apart and yet you feel like you are, that’s a strong sign the energy is coming from outside you.
Once you recognize that, the next question becomes:
How do I respond — without absorbing it?
Practical Strategies for the Year Ahead
Here are a few grounded ways empaths can protect their nervous systems:
• Unplug intentionally.
Turn off the news. Step back from social media. Don’t answer every text like Pavlov’s dog. Your attention is precious.
• Curate what you consume.
If you spend five minutes wading through the sewage of daily news, balance it with ten minutes of something hopeful — music, art, a book, a walk, a moment of beauty.
• Name the manipulation.
Much of what we’re experiencing is designed to keep people in fight-or-flight. This isn’t accidental. Recognizing that helps break its spell.
When fear and outrage are being deliberately amplified, our most radical response is calm, mindfulness, and conscious detachment.
That doesn’t mean indifference.
It means sovereignty.
Walking Toward the Light
The Solstice reminds us that even at the darkest point, the turn has already begun. The light doesn’t return all at once — it comes back slowly, almost imperceptibly, day by day.
As we move into the new year, especially those of us who feel deeply, the work isn’t to harden or shut down. It’s to strengthen boundaries, choose what we engage with, and care for our nervous systems with intention.
That, too, is a form of courage.
May the coming year bring more steadiness, more discernment, and moments of real peace — both within us and, slowly, in the world we share.
Blessed Be.
Just the Tarot 