26 Things To Do This Liminal Space Week
+ an invitation to three days of life design workshops <3
I have a deep love for what you might call “Liminal Space Week” — this time between Christmas and New Years when emails are slower and the world feels quiet and still. It’s a week where we expect to find ourselves clearing out old office drawers and taking longer baths than usual. The obligations of the holiday season are slowing down, and it’s possible you’ve got at least a day or two ahead of you with absolutely nothing to do.
To celebrate, I’ve spent the last few days doodling a list of 26 activities you can try out. Below you’ll find experiments, rituals, and too-often-neglected tasks that I hope offer you a chance to enter 2026 with a renewed sense of optimism, relaxation and clarity.
Speaking of: Next week, I’m hosting the fourth annual VISION WEEK, a three day series of life design workshops at the Pretty Decent Internet Café.
We’re kicking off on Tuesday with a sprawling and introspective look at time, hosted by my personal astrologer and beloved friend Isabella Goldman. On Wednesday, I’ll teach a money workshop for creative business owners and freelancers where we’ll review your 2025 earnings and craft revenue projections and pricing strategies for 2026. Then on Thursday we’ll close up with a vision boarding party and brainstorm ways to sustain the bustling and creative energy of this time of year.
Hope to see you next week?
<3 Lex
26 Things To Do In The Liminal Week Between Christmas & New Years
Draw a warm bath. Leave your phone in another room, but bring a book, a pen, and journal or a handful of index cards. Write down everything your mind comes up with. Don’t try to sound smart. Notice what happens to your thoughts when your body is relaxed and warm.
Call someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. Ask plenty of follow up questions.
If it’s cold where you are, create a basket by the front door with sweatpants, socks, and maybe a few thin thermal layers. See if this makes it easier to get outside in the winter months and go for a walk.
On one of those outings, maybe a Color Walk? Step outside and choose a color — any one that calls your attention. Walk in the direction of that color until you see it again, then follow it until you end up somewhere interesting. Bonus points if your Color Walk ends with a little treat.
As an experiment, try doing something you want to do before you do something you need to do.
Make a gratitude board. Using your own camera roll as inspiration, scroll through until you find images that reflect the kind of life you want to live. This is an exercise in asking God and/or the Universe for “More of what I already have, please.”
Spend an hour or two crafting something using only the materials you already have. Notice what happens to your creativity when you’re work within that kind of constraint.
Cook something that takes longer than an hour and/or requires your close attention. These cinnamon rolls are the best I’ve ever made.
As you think about what you want from 2026, find a corner of your life that already feels that way. This can be a literal corner, like a small area in your home, or a metaphorical one, like an aspect of your relationships or career. If you have extra time, see what you can do to make that corner even more of a reflection of your dream life — maybe you transform a linen closet into a meditation room, plan a lowkey date night, or rearrange your desk until it feels like a writerly space.
Have yourself a good old fashioned George Costanza Day: From the moment you wake up, do exactly the opposite of what you’d usually do.
Alternatively, host what we call in my house a “Big Kid Day.” Write down a few small housekeeping or administrative tasks you’ve been avoiding. Then go to the store and stock up on all of your favorite snacks and treats. Come home and work on your “Big Kid” task(s) for as long as it takes—body doubling is super necessary for me here. Once your very important adult task(s) are done, celebrate by blowing up an air mattress in the living room or making a fort out of the couch cushions and watching cartoons with snacks until you crash.
Indulge in a creative “productive procrastination” task you’d usually give yourself shit for, like spending 3 hours organizing a bookshelf or redecorating your Notion workspace.
Rearrange your bedroom furniture.
Go to the library without any sense of purpose. Notice what titles or colors or subjects you’re drawn to. Say hello to the librarian by name when you check out.
Try a new coffee shop.
Wake up early enough to see the sunrise. Bonus points if you brave the winter chill to watch from a rooftop or parking garage nearby.
Write down a list of 11 things you want. Big things, small things, material things, abstract things. From any time in the future. Once you reach 11, set a timer for 5 minutes and free-write a diary entry in present tense from a day in your life where you have those 11 things. (We’ll do this together at Vision Week.)
Call to mind an experience you’ve lived through—maybe something that was painful once but is no longer raw to the touch. Make a playlist of songs that, when played in order, retell the story of that experience.
Set the table for breakfast, then stay there for hours.
Put your phone in a drawer. Place a sticky note on the surface above it. For a day, each time you go to reach for your phone, mark a small tally on the sticky note and/or write down a small one-word entry on what made you reach for it. (Ex: bored, worried, under/over-stimulated.)
Dress up as your favorite character, then go do something that character would do.
If there’s a pile in your home that’s haunting you, move its contents into a basket or gift bag.
Schedule the appointment you’ve been avoiding. Once done, celebrate.
Write a thank you note.
Stretch for much longer than you usually would.
Take the long way home.
You’re invited! Join us for VISION WEEK 2026, a three day series of crafty life design workshops, ft. journal prompts and vision board exercises. (Like art class, but for your wildest dreams.)
Each day includes a 75 minute hands-on workshop focused on one of three key resources: Time, Money, and Energy.
Vision Week is entirely virtual, and recordings will be available for each workshop. You can buy single-day passes for $26, or bundle everything into an all-access pass for $53.
I signed up for next week! I've been interested in your workshops and $53 was so affordable! Looking forward to it. :)
I absolutely loved this list - not typical at all. I loved - dress up as a character and do what they would do - among others. Super interesting and thoughtful.