On Rhythm, Rest, and Sustaining What’s Sacred

A New Year’s Note from Me to You

I’ve been thinking a lot about rhythm lately.

Maybe it’s the way December always feels like holding your breath underwater. Maybe it’s the way grief and joy thread themselves through the holidays like alternating beads. Maybe it’s simply the realization that the things we love most deserve a pace that keeps them holy, not hurried.

Rubble Prayers began as a heartbeat - a place to write from the middle of my own undoing and rebuilding. What I didn’t expect was how many of you would find yourselves in the same rubble, or how much the simple act of telling the truth would become a lifeline for both of us.

This space has become something precious.
And precious things deserve care.

What I’m Changing in the New Year (and Why)

Over the past few months, I’ve been posting a lot: free reflections, Sunday prayers, and weekly long-form essays for paid subscribers. It’s been life-giving… but it has also been a lot. And if I’m honest, I’ve felt the edges of burnout tugging at me.

So, beginning in January, I’m shifting to a new rhythm - one that honors the work, my own humanity, and your time as readers.

Here’s what you can expect:

Paid essays every other Thursday

Still rich, still deep, still thoughtful - just spaced in a way that lets them breathe. I want each one to feel like something you can settle into, not rush past.

Free reflections every other Tuesday

These will continue to be the softer, looser, more conversational pieces - the ones that feel like we’re sitting at a kitchen table together.

Prayers every Sunday (always free)

This rhythm isn’t going anywhere. Sunday prayers are the spine of this space.

Nothing is disappearing.
Nothing is shrinking.
It’s simply becoming more sustainable - for me, and for the work itself.

Why This Matters

I don’t ever want to write from depletion.
I don’t want to wring words out because I have to.
I want to offer writing that feels true, honest, and anchored - not rushed, not obligatory.

This shift is about honoring my creative well, protecting my mental health, and making sure the work I share with you remains something I’m proud of.

It’s about refusing to use a good thing to burn myself out.

It’s about choosing longevity over hustle.
Depth over volume.
Presence over pressure.

Thank You

Thank you to every single one of you who reads, comments, shares, and subscribes - especially the three of you who’ve already decided to support this space financially. I don’t take that lightly. It’s sacred to me.

Thank you for making room for authentic writing, for slow stories, for honest prayers, for truth-telling without spectacle. Thank you for showing up in my little corner of the internet with openness and tenderness.

I’m endlessly grateful.

Here’s to entering the new year with intention, margin, and a rhythm that lets us breathe.

— Abigail 🤍