Christmas carries a strange mix of light and weight. The lights sparkle, the music drifts through shops, and yet the pressure quietly builds. Expectations pile up, family dynamics resurface, money feels tighter, and the calendar fills faster than it ever should. Reducing stress at Christmas begins by noticing that much of it comes not from the season itself, but from what we think it ought to be.
One gentle step is permission, permission to simplify. Not every tradition needs to be honoured every year, not every invitation needs a yes, and not every table needs to look like a magazine spread. Choosing fewer things and doing them with care can be deeply freeing. Rest is not laziness at Christmas, it’s wisdom.
It also helps to ground yourself in small, ordinary moments. A quiet walk in cold air, a mug warming your hands, a familiar song played just for you. These pauses remind the nervous system that it’s safe to slow down. Breathing more deeply, even for a minute, can interrupt the rush and bring you back into your body.
Connection matters too, but it doesn’t have to be perfect. Honest conversations, lowered expectations, and a bit of humour can soften tense edges. If grief or loneliness surfaces, let it be acknowledged rather than pushed away. Christmas doesn’t erase hard feelings, it sits alongside them.
Finally, remember that the season passes. The world doesn’t hinge on one meal, one gift, or one day. Kindness to yourself, as much as to others, is perhaps the most meaningful Christmas practice of all.
People don’t say “Happy Holidays” because they’re ashamed of Christmas. They say it because several holidays occur around the same time – Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, New Year, and others. Using an inclusive greeting simply recognises the reality of multiple celebrations happening at once. Yet somehow, this has been framed as a cultural threat.
In truth, the areas often criticised for saying “Happy Holidays” tend to be more economically productive, globally connected, and culturally diverse. People there interact daily with neighbours, colleagues, and strangers who don’t look, worship, or live exactly as they do. Exposure to different traditions isn’t threatening, it’s normal. Acknowledging others’ celebrations doesn’t diminish your own.
Graphics or narratives that suggest otherwise aren’t educational. They are carefully packaged branding, a form of grievance marketing designed to create division rather than understanding. When such messaging forms the bulk of someone’s information diet, it shapes their perception of the world in a narrow and fearful way.
Loving Christmas and recognising why “Happy Holidays” exists aren’t contradictory. They can coexist comfortably, reflecting both personal tradition and social awareness. Inclusivity doesn’t erase identity; it affirms that in a shared world, multiple stories and celebrations can exist side by side.
So this season, there’s no need to choose between joy and acknowledgment. You can celebrate what you love while respecting others’ traditions. In doing so, the message is clear: kindness, curiosity, and understanding matter more than cultural grievance. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Just Another Missing Person (Gillian McAllister) isn’t ‘just’ a mystery about another missing person. There are several narrators, with many twists and turns right up to the last page. An enjoyable read that will keep you guessing.
Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex (Mary Roach) is an enlightening and humorous romp through a taboo subject, be prepared for grimaces and shocks along the way.
The Unseen (Roy Jacobsen) is a universal story about identity, resilience, and the tension between place and possibility. It follows the quiet yet elemental life of Ingrid Barrøy, a girl growing up on a remote Norwegian island in the early 20th century, where her family survives by the rhythm of the sea and seasons. As Ingrid matures, she begins to question her place in this isolated world, torn between the harsh beauty of her home and the pull of the unknown beyond the horizon. A deeply affecting portrait of a family clinging to a place that simultaneously sustains them and seals them off. It combines introspective narratives, minimalist yet evocative writing, and historical explorations of how ordinary lives intersect with nature’s grandeur.
The Surgeon (Tess Gerritson) is a chilling medical thriller about a meticulous serial killer who stalks and murders women in a ritualistic way, leaving behind surgical precision and no clues. As Detective Thomas Moore and trauma surgeon Dr Catherine Cordell (herself a past survivor) get closer to the truth, they discover the killer may be re-enacting her darkest nightmare.
Before I Go to Sleep (S. J. Watson) is a psychological thriller about Christine, a woman who wakes up every day with no memory of her past, relying on notes and the people around her to piece together her life. As she gradually uncovers the truth, she realises that those she trusts most may be hiding dangerous secrets.
Orbital (Samantha Harvey) is a short, poetic novel set aboard the International Space Station, following six astronauts over the course of a single 24-hour period as they circle Earth sixteen times and reflect on existential and planetary themes including the meaning of life, the divine, and climate change.
The Blue Hour (Paula Hawkins) is set on a remote Scottish tidal island, where a curator discovers a possible human bone in a sculpture, pulling together a vanished husband, a scholar, and an old companion into a web of secrets told through shifting timelines. It’s atmospheric and unsettling, exploring art, obsession, and power.
Upgrade (Blake Crouch) is a high-concept science fiction thriller that explores the limits of human evolution and the ethical boundaries of genetic engineering. It follows a man whose DNA is forcibly altered, forcing him to confront what it means to be human in a world where perfection may be the deadliest flaw.
The Traitors (Alan Connor) is an interactive tie-in book to the hit TV series that turns the show’s themes of deception, trust and betrayal into a choose-your-own adventure game, inviting readers to make strategic decisions as they navigate social deduction and shifting alliances. It blends the psychological tension and cunning of the Traitors franchise with puzzle-like scenarios that test logic, intuition, and group dynamics for individual or group play.
While You Sleep (Stephanie Merritt) is a haunting psychological thriller that explores the fine line between sanity and madness, and the shadows that the past can cast over the present. Set on a remote Scottish island, it’s a story steeped in isolation, grief, and the uneasy interplay between reason and the supernatural.
Into the Water (Paula Hawkins) is a layered exploration of memory, fear, and the stories we tell to survive, tracing how a small town’s buried secrets rise like mist from the river that binds it. Hawkins weaves a tense, multi-voiced narrative shaped by trauma, suspicion, and the haunting pull of the past.
Blood Stream (Luca Veste) is a tense, contemporary thriller exploring how fear, media manipulation, and the hunger for spectacle can turn a city against itself, as a mysterious outbreak of violence pushes people to question what’s real and who they can trust. Through its gripping plot and shifting perspectives, the novel reflects on the dangers of conspiracy thinking and the fragility of social cohesion.
Max Verstappen (James Gray) explores the extraordinary rise of the Dutch Formula 1 phenomenon whose fierce competitiveness, innate talent, and single-minded determination have redefined modern racing. The book captures not only his achievements and records but also the mindset, family dynamics, and controversies that shape one of the sport’s most compelling figures.
Night Sky Almanac 2025 (Radmila Topalivic, Storm Dunlop & Wil Tirion) is a yearbook I wouldn’t be without; each year’s edition is always by my side.
I’ve been considering how a US President can be removed from office for debasing the office, for being incompetent, and acting inappropriately? I’ve discovered that a president can only be formally removed from office through constitutional processes, and these are deliberately narrow and difficult.
The main route is impeachment. The Constitution allows a president to be impeached for “treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanours”. This phrase doesn’t mean ordinary crimes alone; it also covers serious abuses of power, corruption, or conduct that fundamentally undermines the presidency. The House of Representatives has the sole power to impeach, which is essentially bringing charges by a simple majority vote. If the House impeaches, the president is then tried by the Senate. Removal from office requires a two-thirds majority of senators voting to convict. Without that supermajority, the president remains in office, even if many believe the behaviour is debasing, incompetent, or inappropriate.
There’s also the 25th Amendment, which deals with incapacity rather than misconduct. If the vice-president and a majority of the cabinet declare that the president is unable to discharge the powers and duties of the office, the vice-president becomes acting president. If the president disputes this, Congress ultimately decides, again requiring a two-thirds vote in both the House and Senate to keep the president sidelined. This mechanism is meant for physical or mental incapacity, not poor judgement, moral failings, or offensive behaviour.
Beyond these, there’s no legal mechanism to remove a president simply for being incompetent, embarrassing the office, or behaving inappropriately. Those judgements are left to voters at the next election, to political pressure within the president’s own party, or to history. The system is designed to prioritise stability and electoral accountability over rapid removal, even when a president’s conduct deeply troubles many citizens.
Brexit is probably the main reason the UK economy is doing badly because it’s made trade slower, more expensive, and more uncertain, especially for small and medium sized businesses. Leaving the single market and customs union introduced new paperwork, border checks, and regulatory barriers that didn’t exist before, reducing exports and discouraging investment.
Many international companies have shifted operations elsewhere in Europe, taking jobs, tax revenue, and growth with them. At the same time, labour shortages in sectors like agriculture, health, hospitality, and construction have pushed up costs and constrained productivity.
While global factors such as Covid and energy prices have affected all countries, the UK has performed consistently worse than comparable economies, suggesting that Brexit has acted as a long term drag rather than a one off shock.
International Migrants Day is marked each year on 18 December, inviting us to pause and really see the people behind the word “migrant”. It was established by the United Nations to recognise the millions who live, work, study, and raise families away from the place they first called home, often carrying both hope and grief in the same suitcase. Some move by choice, others by necessity, many by a mixture of both, yet all share the experience of crossing boundaries, visible and invisible.
The day shines a light on the contributions migrants make to societies, economies, cultures, and communities, contributions that are too easily overlooked or reduced to statistics. It also draws attention to the realities many face, exploitation, dangerous journeys, separation from loved ones, and the quiet strain of never fully belonging. At its heart is a call to dignity, fairness, and compassion, reminding us that human rights don’t stop at borders.
International Migrants Day asks more than polite sympathy. It challenges us to listen carefully, to resist fear-driven narratives, and to remember that migration is as old as humanity itself. It’s a moment to recognise shared vulnerability and shared strength, and to choose hospitality over suspicion, solidarity over indifference.
The deluded and deranged occupant of the White House seems to be sinking to ever deeper lows with a wearying, monotonous regularity. Each day brings a new outrage, a fresh embarrassment, another moment that would once have been unthinkable from anyone entrusted with such power. Anyone with half a brain in America can see this, surely? This isn’t subtle or hidden behaviour, it’s played out in full view of the world, amplified by screens, platforms, and headlines that no longer shock because the bar has been dragged so low.
He’s debasing himself, the office of President, and America’s reputation in the world, well, what’s left of it. The dignity, restraint, and moral seriousness that the role demands have been replaced by bluster, grievance, and a constant hunger for attention. His infantile and narcissistic behaviour isn’t just distasteful, it’s dangerous. It corrodes trust, fuels division, and normalises cruelty. It emboldens the worst instincts in public life while silencing reasoned debate and thoughtful leadership.
The consequences aren’t abstract. This behaviour affects the whole world negatively, destabilising alliances, undermining democracy, and creating real harm. Lives are being damaged and destroyed at home and abroad, not by accident, but by recklessness and indifference.
And yet the most baffling question remains unanswered. Why is no one doing anything to remove him from office? The evidence isn’t hidden in dusty files or whispered corridors. It’s in plain sight, mounting every day, spoken, posted, recorded, and repeated. History will judge not only the man, but those who saw clearly and chose to look away.
For decades before the Brexit referendum, much of the right-wing UK tabloid press presented the EU as a hostile, meddling force, not by accident but because it suited their politics, profits, and power. The EU represented shared rules, social protections, and limits on deregulation, all of which clashed with a free-market, low-regulation worldview. Brussels was distant, complex, and unfamiliar, making it an ideal target for caricature and distortion.
Sensational stories about “bent bananas”, bans on British traditions, or faceless bureaucrats dictating daily life were easy to understand and emotionally charged. They sold newspapers, drove outrage, and encouraged loyalty by framing readers as victims of an external enemy. The truth, that EU regulations were often co-designed by UK ministers and benefited consumers and workers, was far less clickable.
There were also clear political incentives. Successive governments found it convenient to blame the EU for unpopular decisions while quietly supporting those same policies in Brussels. Tabloid owners, some with global business interests, often favoured weakening EU rules and cultivated close relationships with politicians who shared that goal. Over time, myth became narrative, and narrative became identity.
Crucially, accountability was weak. Inaccurate stories were rarely corrected with equal prominence, and the EU itself was poor at explaining its role in plain, human terms. Journalists who challenged the myths were dismissed as elitist or unpatriotic. By the time of the referendum, decades of repetition had embedded a sense of grievance and mistrust so deeply that facts alone struggled to compete with emotion, nostalgia, and a carefully nurtured story of lost sovereignty.
It’s been announced today (Wednesday 17 December 2025) that the UK will be rejoining the EU Erasmus Scheme. This fantastic opportunity was stolen from our young people following a foolish Brexit decision and a disastrous deal.
Its return matters deeply because Erasmus is about far more than study placements or exchange terms. It opens doors to language learning, cultural understanding, friendship across borders, and the quiet confidence that comes from discovering you can belong in more than one place.
I saw this first-hand through my grown up daughter, Sarah, who benefited immensely from her time in Bologna. The experience shaped her academically, stretched her personally, and left her with friendships, memories, and a sense of Europe that no classroom alone could ever provide.
For countless students, particularly those from less privileged backgrounds, Erasmus was a first passport stamp, a first step beyond the familiar, and a powerful reminder that Europe isn’t an abstract idea but a shared human space. Rejoining sends a signal that we’re serious about investing in the next generation, trusting them to learn, travel, collaborate, and imagine bigger futures.
It won’t undo all the damage of Brexit, but it’s a meaningful act of repair, restoring opportunity, dignity, and hope where they were unnecessarily taken away.
Jews around the world are not responsible for the actions of the Israeli Government, just as people of any faith or ethnicity aren’t accountable for the decisions of a state that claims to act in their name. Judaism is a diverse global religion and culture, not a single political position, and Jewish communities hold a wide range of views about Israel, its leadership, and its policies.
To conflate Jewish identity with the actions of one government is both inaccurate and unjust, and it risks fuelling antisemitism by treating a whole people as a monolith. Political criticism, however strong or necessary, should be directed at those in power and at specific policies, not at ordinary people who share neither responsibility nor control. Upholding this distinction matters, because justice depends on fairness, clarity, and the refusal to blame the many for the choices of the few.
It isn’t antisemitic to criticise the Israeli government or its policies, just as it isn’t prejudiced to challenge any other state’s actions, provided the focus remains on decisions, laws, and leaders rather than on a people or a faith. Antisemitism targets Jews because they are Jews, while legitimate political criticism questions power and policy, and confusing the two silences necessary debate while doing nothing to protect Jewish communities from real hatred.
Holding this line clearly and carefully allows moral scrutiny without collective blame, solidarity without erasure, and disagreement without dehumanisation, so that our arguments aim towards dignity, safety, and peace for all. May that be our hope and our practice. Shalom.