The Magic of the In-Between: Witchcraft for the Week Between Christmas and New Year

What day is it? What year is it? Does time even exist right now?

Welcome to the weird, floaty, liminal space between Christmas and New Year where nobody knows what's happening and everyone is operating on leftover cookies and confusion.

This week is STRANGE. The holidays are technically over but not really. Work might be happening but also might not. You're supposed to be making plans for the new year but you can barely remember to brush your teeth. Time feels fake. Reality feels optional.

And you know what? That's actually incredibly magical.

The Power of Liminal Time

As witches, we should be ALL OVER this week because liminal spaces and times are where magic thrives.

Liminal means "threshold" - it's the in-between space. Not here, not there. Not Christmas, not New Year. Not last year, not next year. The doorway between one thing and another.

And doorways? Thresholds? These are some of the most magically potent spaces that exist.

Think about it:

• Dawn and dusk (neither day nor night)

• Crossroads (neither one path nor another)

• Shorelines (neither land nor sea)

• This exact week (neither old year nor new year)

Liminal time is when the veil is thinner, when the rules are looser, when magic slips through the cracks more easily.

So this weird, disorienting, "I don't know what day it is" feeling you're having? That's not a bug, that's a feature.

Permission to Do Absolutely Nothing

Here's what I need you to hear: You don't have to be productive right now.

I know, I know - there's pressure to:

• Deep clean your entire house

• Set elaborate goals for 2026

• Meal prep for the new year

• Organize your whole life

• Have some kind of spiritual breakthrough

But you know what's also incredibly valid? Lying on your couch in yesterday's pajamas, eating leftover pie, and staring into space.

Rest is magic.

Let me say that louder for the people in the back: REST IS WITCHCRAFT.

In a culture that demands constant productivity, choosing to rest - truly rest, not just collapse from exhaustion - is an act of rebellion. It's reclaiming your energy. It's honoring your needs. It's working with natural cycles instead of against them.

And right now? Nature is resting. The earth is in deep winter stillness. Seeds are dormant underground. Bears are hibernating. Trees are conserving energy.

Why do you think you should be any different?

The Magic of Doing Nothing

Let's reframe what "doing nothing" actually means magically:

When you rest, you:

• Allow integration of everything that happened this year

• Create space for downloads and intuitive hits

• Let your nervous system regulate

• Build energy reserves for what's coming

• Practice the art of receiving instead of constantly doing

• Honor the natural cycle of action and rest

That's not lazy. That's deeply magical.

Some of the most powerful spiritual experiences happen when you're doing "nothing" - lying in bed half-asleep, staring out a window, sitting in the bath, walking aimlessly.

Your brain needs downtime to process. Your spirit needs quiet to speak. Your body needs rest to heal.

So if all you do this week is exist in your pajamas and occasionally eat cheese directly from the fridge? You're doing great. No, really.

Low-Energy Magic for the Exhausted Witch

But maybe you want to do SOME magic without actually having energy for elaborate rituals. I get it. Here are practices for when you're running on fumes:

Candle Gazing

Light a candle. Stare at it. That's it.

Let your mind wander. Watch the flame dance. See what thoughts bubble up. This is meditation, divination, and energy work all in one, and it requires approximately zero effort.

Bonus: Candles make everything feel more witchy and cozy.

Intentional Tea Drinking

Make tea (or coffee, or hot chocolate - I'm not the beverage police). As you drink it, set a simple intention. Feel the warmth spreading through your body.

That's a ritual. You just did magic while caffeinating. Well done.

Gratitude Before Sleep

Before you pass out each night, think of three things from 2024 you're grateful for. That's it. No writing required unless you want to.

This simple practice shifts your energy and helps you process the year that's ending.

Threshold Magic

You're literally living in a threshold time. Use it.

Stand in an actual doorway of your home. Feel yourself between spaces. Set an intention for what you're leaving in 2025 and what you're inviting into 2026.

Step through when you're ready. Boom. Threshold magic accomplished.

Do Literally Nothing and Call it Shadow Work

Lie down. Close your eyes. Let your mind wander to whatever it wants to think about.

Don't force anything. Don't try to "fix" anything. Just observe your thoughts like clouds passing by.

This is actually a profound practice. You're letting your subconscious process things without interference. Sometimes the best thing you can do is get out of your own way.

Working With the Void

This week has big void energy - that dark, empty, formless space where nothing is happening yet.

Our culture HATES the void. We're taught to fill every second with productivity and stimulation and achievement.

But the void is where creation begins. It's the darkness before the dawn. The silence before the music. The blank page before the story.

You can't skip the void and jump straight to manifestation. You need this empty, gestating, in-between time.

So if you feel like you're floating in nothingness right now? Good. You're exactly where you're supposed to be.

Let yourself float. Don't rush to the next thing. The new year will come whether you're ready or not - you might as well enjoy this weird, timeless moment while it lasts.

What This Week Is Really For

This week isn't for:

• Hustling

• Fixing yourself

• Massive life changes

• Elaborate rituals

• Impressing anyone

This week IS for:

• Integration

• Rest

• Gentle reflection

• Being kind to yourself

• Floating in the in-between

• Honoring the transition

Think of yourself as a caterpillar in a cocoon right now. You're not a butterfly yet. You're soup. Literal goo. And that's necessary for the transformation.

Don't rush the process. You can't force metamorphosis. You just have to trust that something is happening even when it doesn't look like anything is happening.

A Permission Slip

Consider this your official permission slip (signed by a witch who gives zero f*cks about productivity culture):

You are allowed to:

• Rest as much as you want

• Ignore your to-do list

• Eat weird food at weird times

• Lose track of what day it is

• Do magic or not do magic

• Just exist without justifying it

You are NOT required to:

• Have your life figured out by January 1st

• Be productive

• Set goals (yet or ever)

• Clean anything

• Improve yourself

• Emerge from this week transformed

The only job you have this week is to make it to the other side without burning yourself out.

That's it. That's the assignment.

The Simplest Practice

If you only do ONE thing this week, do this:

Notice the in-between-ness.

Notice how weird time feels. Notice the stillness. Notice the space between what was and what will be.

Just notice. Bear witness to the liminal.

That awareness IS the magic.

What Happens Next

The new year will come. January will demand things from you. Life will speed back up. The normal chaos will resume.

But right now? Right now you're in the pause. The breath between breaths. The sacred nothing before the something.

So wear your comfy pants. Eat the leftover cookies. Stare into space. Take naps. Light a candle if you feel like it. Let your mind wander. Do nothing and do it unapologetically.

You're not being lazy. You're honoring the cycle. You're practicing the magic of rest. You're floating in the void and trusting that solid ground will appear when it's meant to.

The in-between time is a gift. Don't waste it trying to rush to what's next.

Be here. Be nowhere. Be betwixt and between.

The magic is happening whether you can see it or not.

Rest well, witches. The new year can wait. 🕯️✨