Annaliese Rix Psychosocial Services

22/12/2025

As the year draws to a close, there is often an unspoken pressure to summarise, resolve, and move on.

But not every year can be wrapped up neatly.
Some years leave us changed, tender, or still carrying unanswered questions.

This season invites us to honour what was, without erasing what hurt.
To acknowledge what this year took from us, and what it quietly gave in return.

Letting go does not mean forgetting.
It means allowing ourselves to loosen our grip on what no longer needs to be carried into the next season.

You do not need to be healed to move forward.
You do not need clarity to cross a threshold.
You only need permission to arrive gently.

If you are ending this year tired, reflective, or unsure, you are not behind.
You are human.

Honouring what was is already an act of hope.

Affirmation:
I honour what this year has held, and I step forward gently.

16/12/2025

Today my heart feels heavy.
Not because of my own story, but because of the many fragile, brave lives I am invited to witness.

I sit with people who have endured more than should ever be asked of a human being.
And still…they show up.
They breathe.
They love.
They try again.

This song and film felt like a quiet mirror today.
Not offering answers.
Not fixing anything.
Just honouring the truth that some people live despite, and that, in itself, is sacred.

In the spirit of this season, my wish is simple:
more care for one another,
more compassion,
more kindness,
especially where we do not know the full story.

My wish is not that suffering disappears overnight,
but that those who carry it may still find moments of light, dignity, meaning…
their own version of heaven, even here.

Today I am holding the fragility of people with tenderness.
Including my own.

🤍

Vandag voel my hart swaar.
Nie oor my eie storie nie, maar oor die broosheid van soveel lewens wat ek daagliks getuie van is.

Ek sit saam met mense wat meer moes verduur as wat ooit regverdig is.
En tog, daag hul op.
Hulle haal asem.
Hulle het lief.
Hulle hou aan.

Hierdie lied en film het vandag soos ’n stil spieël voor my gevoel.
Nie om antwoorde te gee nie.
Nie om iets reg te maak nie.
Maar om eerbied te betoon aan die waarheid dat sommige mense leef ten spyte van…
en dat dit op sigself heilig is.

In die gees van hierdie seisoen is my wens eenvoudig:
meer sorg vir mekaar,
meer deernis,
meer sagtheid en vriendelikheid,
veral waar ons nie die volle storie ken nie.

Mag dié wat swaarkry steeds oomblikke van lig, waardigheid en betekenis vind,
hulle eie weergawe van hemel, selfs ten spyte van…

Vandag hou ek die broosheid van mense sag vas.
Ook my eie.

🤍

Lyrics

As It Is In Heaven 2004 (Swedish)
Gabriellas song.
--Helen Sjöholm

It is now that this life is mine
I have got this short time on earth
And my longing has brought me here
All I lacked and all I gained
And yet its the way that I've chose
My trust was far beyond words
That has shown me a little bit
Of the heaven I've never found

I want to feel that I'm alive all my living days
I will live as I desire
I want to feel that I'm alive
Knowing I was good enough
I've never lost who I was
I have only left it sleeping
Maybe I never had a chance
Just the will to stay alive

All I want is to be happy
Being who I am
To be strong and to be free
To see days arise from nights
I am here and my life is only mine
And the heaven I thought was there
I will discover it there are somewhere
I want to feel that I lived my life

As It Is In Heaven 2004 (Swedish)Gabriellas song.--Helen SjöholmIt is now that this life is mine I have got this short time on earthAnd my longing has broug...

15/12/2025

PROTECTING YOUR ENERGY

Christmas is often spoken about in terms of hope, peace, love, and faith,
yet many people reach this season depleted, overwhelmed, and stretched beyond capacity.

Protecting your energy is not turning away from these values.
It is one of the most faithful ways of living them out.

When we practise mindfulness, we begin to notice:
• when our bodies are signalling overload
• when our nervous systems are in survival mode
• when saying “yes” costs more than it gives
• when peace is being sacrificed in the name of expectation

Boundaries are not walls.
They are containers that allow what matters most to remain intact.

Saying no to overcommitment is often how we say yes to peace.
Choosing rest is often how we preserve love.
Limiting exposure to conflict is often how we protect hope.
Stepping back from harmful dynamics can be an act of faith,
faith that goodness does not require self-sacrifice to survive.

Mindfulness invites us to ask, moment by moment:
• What am I feeling in my body right now?
• What does my nervous system need?
• Is this choice aligned with the kind of presence I want to bring?

When we honour those signals, we create space to show up more gently,
with patience, warmth, and steadiness, rather than resentment or exhaustion.

Christmas does not ask us to fix everything.
It invites us to hold light where we can, and to trust that small, protected acts of goodness still matter.

You are allowed to:
• simplify
• step back
• rest
• say no without explanation
• choose quiet over chaos

These are not failures of love or faith.
They are ways of keeping hope alive, even in difficult times.

Affirmation for today:
I protect my energy so I can show up with peace, love, and presence.

Sometimes the most meaningful way we honour the season is by protecting what allows us to stay human.

11/12/2025

Gratitude for the Mind, Body & Soul

Gratitude is not about pretending that life doesn’t hurt.
It is about learning to hold what is good alongside what is hard.
Both can exist at the same time.

Science shows us that gratitude supports the mind by easing anxiety and strengthening emotional resilience.
It supports the body by calming the nervous system, improving sleep, and lowering stress.
And it nourishes the soul by restoring meaning, connection, and a quiet sense of “enough.”

But real gratitude does not deny grief, trauma, exhaustion, or uncertainty.
True gratitude simply whispers:
“Even here, something is still holding me.”

This week’s gentle invitation is not to force positivity —
but to notice what quietly sustained you, even when you felt you had little left.

🌱 A breath.
☕ A warm cup.
🤍 A moment of kindness.
🕊 The simple fact that you are still here.

Gratitude does not erase the pain.
It simply reminds us that pain is not the whole story.

✨ Reflection for this week:
What quietly sustained you when things felt heavy?

🌾 “I do not rush gratitude. I allow it to grow where I am planted.”

08/12/2025

This week we reflect on what sustained us,
not only in moments of strength,
but also in moments of exhaustion and uncertainty.

Not what sparkled.
Not what looked impressive from the outside.
But what quietly kept us breathing.
What helped us get out of bed.
What steadied us when the ground felt unsteady.

For some, it was a person who stayed.
For others, it was routine, faith, nature, music, medication, therapy, or one safe place to exhale.
For some, it was simply survival, one day at a time.

Gratitude, in its truest form, is not a performance.
It is a gentle acknowledgement that something held us, even when we were too tired to notice.

And sometimes we only recognise what sustained us when we look back and realise:
“I should not have made it through that… and yet, here I am.”

Affirmation for this week:
I honour what sustained me, even when I was unaware.

As you move through this week, you might like to pause quietly with these reflections:
• What truly carried me this year?
• What supported me in ways I did not fully appreciate at the time?
• What am I grateful for without needing to minimise what was hard?

Gratitude does not erase the pain of the year,
it simply places a soft light beside it.

05/12/2025

If your year had a title, not a performance review, what would you call it?

We are allowed to tell our story gently.
Not in bullet points of achievement,
but in the language of survival, becoming, unlearning, and staying.

We often talk about growth,
but not enough about the cost of growing.
The emotional labour.
The relational strain.
The physical fatigue.
The quiet griefs that never made an announcement.

Not all lessons are gentle.
Some are expensive.

And yet…
you are still here.
With breath. With memory. With tenderness. With wisdom you didn’t have a year ago.

As this year begins to loosen its grip, you don’t have to rush to make meaning.
You are allowed to hold your story with compassion.
You are allowed to rest inside it.
You are allowed to carry only what still feels true.

For you:
Complete this gently, without pressure:
• This year was…
• What did this year demand of me emotionally?
• What would I like to leave behind?
• What feels worth carrying forward into the year ahead?

There is space here for grief and for hope.
For fatigue and for quiet faith in what is still becoming.

You don’t need to be finished with your healing to be hopeful about tomorrow.

04/12/2025

Some of us arrive at December hopeful.
Some arrive exhausted.
Some arrive grieving.
Some arrive quietly proud.

December does not ask you to be fixed, festive, or finished.
It simply meets you where you are.

This year may not have been filled with milestones,
but maybe it was filled with endurance, patience, and staying.

Remind yourself that you don’t need to catch up, keep up, or prove anything as this new month begins.
You are not behind.
You are arriving with your full, honest human heart, and that is enough.

How are you arriving at December this year?

What was difficult or challenging?
What felt like a quiet blessing?
What would you like to leave behind?
What would you like to carry forward into the next year?

Give yourself permission to arrive exactly as you are.

01/12/2025

December is not only an ending, it is a threshold.
This reflective calendar invites you into a slow, compassionate closing of the year. Each day offers a gentle prompt for gratitude, grief, strength, boundaries, rest, and intention. Designed to support emotional integration, nervous system regulation, and meaningful reflection as you transition into a new year with clarity and care.

29/11/2025

As we close this month of Presence, I’m holding onto one final, quiet truth:

“Sonder” , a neologism (a newly coined word), created by John Koenig in The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. It is not a traditional dictionary word, but it has become widely used.

(It means the realisation that every stranger we pass is living a life just as complex and tender as our own).

🤍Presence begins within:
with breath, awareness, and grounding.

But it doesn’t end there.
True presence widens into compassion,
into remembering that every person we encounter is carrying invisible stories, private battles, silent hopes.

May we leave this month a little softer.
A little slower.
A little more human with one another.

Presence continues… in how we see each other.

As you release this month of Presence, reflect:

• Where did I notice myself becoming more present this month?
• Where did I struggle to stay present?
• How does remembering the unseen lives of others (sonder) change how I want to show up in the world?
• What kind of presence do I want to carry into the next season of my life?

27/11/2025

The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.”
— Henry David Thoreau

Every yes we give, every task we take on, every role we step into, costs us something of our life force: our time, our energy, our attention.

Presence invites us to pause and gently ask:
*Is this worth the life I’m exchanging for it?
* Is this aligned with who I am becoming?
* Does this nourish me, or slowly drain me?

Being present is not only about where we are,
it’s about how consciously we choose what we give our life to.

Today, may you spend your life on what truly matters.
🤍

20/11/2025

Community begins in the small, brave choice to show up with softness, with curiosity, with care.