The Creative Life — with Jim Kroft

THE DECEMBER RESET

The Creative Life Podcast — Jim Kroft

Over the last few weeks, I've had conversations with so many creatives facing the same, specific pain point: your unfinished project, the thing you’ve poured yourself into this year, has started to feel like a failure.

And it feels like failure because, no matter how much energy or commitment you put in between now and Christmas, you know—deep down—that there simply isn’t the time to get it over the line.

That realisation crashes down, right now, in December, because we are haunted by the spectre of January—that moment when society demands we start something new.

Worse, we try to compensate by pushing even harder at the very moment when our energy is waning. And it leads to the inevitability that we feel even more burnt out than we already feel, and it completely numbs our ability to take in the joy of the festive season.

So today’s episode is about a different approach—how we turn that December burnout into stored momentum for 2026.

For most of us, the impulse is to push right at the point when what would actually help is letting go a little: accepting how far we’ve come, and realising that what the project needs isn’t the current, exhausted you—but a replenished you, ready to get back into it with new fire when you return.

To do that, I’m going to suggest that you may need to do the very opposite of what society demands.

Not starting again.
Not forcing a fresh identity.
But pausing long enough to protect what you’ve already built, so it’s still there when you come back to it.

This is not about starting new things.

It's about forgiving yourself for not being further ahead than you’d wished; doubling down on what you’ve already started; and making a few deliberate shifts that set you up to continue—rather than abandon—the work in the year ahead.

Accept the Real Timeline

So the first point is this, and it’s perhaps the hardest: Accept the real timeline.

Our projects simply do not follow the timeline we set for them. This year taught me that brutally.

After completing the recording of my album at the end of 2024, I thought it would be released, toured, and wrapped up by now. Life, however, had other plans. Work, and a disastrous crisis of confidence, drove me to the point of losing the project altogether.

But then, at my worst point, something shifted.

I remembered three simple things: first, I am human. Second, I am trying to do this project 100% independently. And third, that getting knocked off course doesn’t have to mean losing the course.

The truth is simple: our projects always take longer than we think.

Even John Lennon quipped, “Life is what happens while we make all our little plans.”

So rather than feeling like you’ve failed, accept that reality has a different timeline from your imagination.

If you can accept that, you can forgive yourself.

And if you forgive yourself, you can finally cast off the deadweight of “failure,” start enjoying what this Christmas season is actually about—which is living itself—and then, in January, get on with the business of moving forward.

December Forgiveness Is Fuel for January

And this brings us to the second lesson: December forgiveness is fuel for January.

If you push even harder now, if you hustle through Christmas, you risk burning out and then walking into January with a backpack full of failure.

Look, you’re going to need new energy for the challenge ahead. So why not allow yourself to get in sync with the season now, rather than fighting it?

One simple way to think about this is to not start anything new in this final working period.

Instead, ask yourself: what can I top and tail?

What, within your real limitations, can you bring to a gentle close?

Is there one small part of a project you could deliberately close out, so it feels complete enough to put down for the holidays?

Beyond that, rather than committing manically to things you can’t finish, use this time in three deliberate ways.

First, make space to simply visualise what’s ahead — not in detail, but in outline. While I like to be specific about what I’m driving forward, I’ve learned to close December less with an obsession over what I’m going to do, and more with a broader sense of who I want to be.

Second, map three clear steps you want to take in January, so the path is already there when you return. Again, this isn’t a time for manic detail; it’s more about leaving your future self a note from this stage, so you’re not standing there wondering where to begin.

And third, write down what you will actually do on Day One, so you’re not starting from zero.

The reality is that coming back to a project can be hard, and all the things you thought you’d do can suddenly feel like they’ve evaporated on arrival. Give yourself the gift of the first step.

Taken together, this is about creating continuity without pressure—making it easier to return, rather than forcing yourself to push through.

All of this isn’t about avoiding work now. It’s about allowing the emotions we usually suppress with overwork to surface.

Didn’t finish the project? Roger that.
Didn’t get as far as you hoped? Roger that.
Not where you want to be yet? Roger that.

If you don’t take a beat in December to open the release valve, you just carry that pressure forward—turning what should be a time of rest into full-blown December burnout.

Break the Myth of the Fresh Start

The third suggestion I have to make is perhaps the most powerful in creating that momentum for 2026: break the myth of the fresh start.

January seduces us with the idea of starting again.

But the “fresh start” is often just a socially approved way of giving up.

That might sound harsh, but I have a different perspective: rather than jumping towards a million new things, why not pick up the momentum you’ve already built but couldn’t quite finish?

In my experience, nothing creates progress like continuity.

You don’t build a cathedral by starting a new foundation every month—you build it by laying the next stone.

So please, let go of this shadow of failure.

You show your courage by doubling down on a project that tested you. That’s how you really form character.

The results you want will not come from a shiny, fresh start. They come from learning from the mistakes you’ve made and then doing it better.

I’m not saying you can’t enjoy the replenishment of a New Year.

But instead of writing ten resolutions you won’t remember by March, try something much simpler.

First, name your core project. Not five things. Not a vague intention. The one piece of work that, if you stayed with it, would actually change the shape of your year.

Put words around it. Say it out loud. Because what you don’t name, you can’t commit to.

Second, establish a real timeline for 2026. Not a fantasy timeline. A committed one. One that stretches you, but doesn’t crush you. A timeline that factors in detours but that in turn pulls you up with it because it’s lofty enough to keep you striving upwards.

And third, create four clear goals—one for each quarter. Not to pressure yourself, but to give the year some structure at the outset.

For me, it helps to think about the timeline of a project with the seasons in mind. That’s why I like to reset in December, go at it like hell in January, then build up enough momentum that I can give myself back to life in the summer.

If each season has its own focus, you’re not constantly feeling like you should be doing everything at once.

Conclusion

So to conclude, the beauty of December isn’t that things magically complete—but that a chapter closes.

We forget that part of life is allowing ourselves some credit for how far we’ve come.

Delays, setbacks, and missed deadlines don’t have to mean failure. They can be a catalyst, forcing you to ask: Who are you, really? What are you made of, really? What are you willing to change, really?

Anyone can pivot at the first sign of challenge. But it takes something else to double down when life flings you through its washer.

So this is my invitation for a December reset.

Dream a little.
Make a few plans.
Then let it go.

I hope you give yourself the gift of giving yourself over to the season—to love, and the greatest gift of all: to be in life.

In January, we go again.

Roger that.

Closing

On a personal note, thank you—each and every one of you—for the support you’ve shown the podcast this year.

While the core audience has been in the United States and the UK, the show has now been listened to in 79 countries, and I’m really so humbled that this labour of love is now reaching a truly global audience.

As you know, I don’t run ads here. I want this to remain a space where anyone can come to find value, ideas, and inspiration for their own creative journey.

If you’d like to give something back, the simplest way is to rate and review the podcast—and even more importantly, to share this episode with someone in your own network who might need it.

I’m your host, Jim Kroft.

If you’d like to follow my own work in the year ahead, you’ll find links to my YouTube, newsletter, and Instagram in the show notes.

For now, happy Christmas. Much love. I’m toasting all of you as I wrap up my own year.