I want to love January, but for the bulk of my years, I fell in love with the idea of it – not its truths. If you’re like me, you’ve spent much of your life viewing January as the magical month of possibilities and clinging to the mantra of “New Year, New You”. In the month home to the most depressing day of the year (Blue Monday), somehow I fooled myself in to thinking that January is the genesis of something great, rather than a final chapter or the prelude to the true New Year (spring). I see it now for what it is, but that was a journey – one whose destination I’m not entirely sure I’ve arrived at.

For those of you who don’t know, Blue Monday is hailed as the most depressing day of the year. Falling on the third Monday of January, it tends to put a natural stop to our drive to chase those New Years resolutions with its low mood and low energy feel. Following a post holiday crash, cold and dark weather and the building pressure of new goals in a season where going outside can feel like trudging to Mordor (but for a less noble task), it makes sense that a seemingly ordinary Monday (a day of the week already grossly disliked) would take on a lot of weight. Three weeks in to your new goals, the dopamine high is wearing off and your consistency may or may not have been enough to lay the groundwork for solid habit formation. Either way, it’s cold and gross outside and something in the depths of you mind is questioning “why are we doing this?” on repeat. Rightfully so.

Not too long ago I stumbled across Katherine May and her book “Wintering” and let it solidify so many of my own views about modern day life, and following the Gregorian calendar and not the natural flow of the seasons. It makes sense to me now that when the temperature drops to -20C and below, and 40cm of snow falls from the sky in one day, it might make more sense to rest than to channel all of your ambition into becoming your best self. After all, most of creation is in energy conservation mode, so it makes sense that as a part of creation we would fall into those natural rhythms. Modern day culture often pushed back against the natural flow of the seasons and nature, convincing us that our very human instincts to rest are a moral failure. Conversely, more traditional and ancestral rhythms had no choice but to succumb to the whims of Mother Nature.

Modern day culture relies heavily on technology and research to place itself above the natural world in a position of power, and while nature is still capable of humbling us, we are given the tools to rise above it in an almost “God Like” fashion – one that makes me deeply uncomfortable. While I love much of what research, science and development has done for modern life, I often feel like it is also used to lead us to a lifestyle that defied generations of stories and programming expressed in our DNA. While I recognize that humans have evolved greatly over time and achieved great feats, I wonder here if moving away from nature will hurt or help our race in the long term. I’ll let you mull that over.

Still, it leads me to question the validity of “Blue Monday” as naturally occurring or simply something of our own making. By nature, darkness and cold prompt our very systems to slow down, making it natural fit for activities like rest, reflection, creative projects and cozy routines. It gives us an opportunity to truly savour the good in our life: lean into the light, the warm bowl of red wind and beef stew, get lost in a moment with the heavens on a clear night, let our mind enjoy the dance of snow falling to the ground, the process of making tea in a favourite mug or cuddling up to a nostalgic movie. By nature, winter also encourages mindfulness through the process of slowness – a little more time to spend with ourselves rather than racing through the endless to do list and answering the endless calls of the million calls for our attention and productivity. Using this time to cultivate our relationship with ourselves gives us a chance to recalibrate our thoughts, feelings and hope. It encourages introspection and processing, which may feel heavy but is natural and regenerative.

At a glance, it may seem like New Years resolutions offer this, but in truth, the process happens to quickly to have any real merit. Our goals then become rooted in what we identify as our flaws, and capacity to increase our productivity and benefit to society. The truth is, this leaves us disconnected with our authentic selves, and leans far to heavily into viewing ourselves as something that needs to be fix. I would argue that society is set up to make it easy to align with it’s goals, but the trade off is your soul – the essence of what makes you YOU.

I often think about how winter was used a natural point in the year to lean into story, and as someone who regularly explores the power of narrative, I can’t help but think about how story is the missing piece from the winter season. We can’t change the way the world works, but we can play with the way we understand the way we show up in it the greater story and how we tell that story back to ourselves. Subtle shifts from “I hate this darkness” to leaning into questions like “How can I benefit from this quiet time?” offer both the reflective and narrative benefits so often missing from this season.

Beyond that, we can look at integrating practical practices to help ease the heaviness of the season, and plant seeds for the inevitable thaw – think of it as being like seeds that need to stratify before they can grow (ie. they don’t grow without first being frozen). Some ideas include journaling (the ultimate narrative and reflective tool that literally lightens your mental load), creative projects that lean into the coziness of home (think painting, writing, knitting, LEGO kits), nature walks in the daylight, incorporating light in the evening (think candles, bonfires, layered lighting), and creating rituals around comfort (think comfort foods, cozy spaces, and doing what you can to minimize the impact of extreme weather). This is just a starting point, I encourage you to explore the pieces of the season and make a list that reflects your preferences and what you enjoy this time of year. Bonus points for keeping it somewhere visible for harder days.

This season is home to tension between social expectations and our biology, and from that came Blue Monday. I will be the first to admit, that I woke up feeling heavy today, and when I stopped to think about what day it was, it all seemed to just “make sense”. Still, I am left questioning whether or not we can look at Blue Monday a little differently – less as a day of gloom and more as a reminder to lean into seasonal rhythms. What if we looked at Blue Monday as permission to rest, rather than something to be endured? I encourage you to play with seasonal alignment and explore what that looks like for you: observe your mood, experiment with small changes, reflect on your needs and the stories you’re telling yourself, notice the small joys, engage your senses and let yourself lean into the pause if only to see what you’ll find there.

To me, January is not a month where we conquer or endure. Maybe the cold, the quiet, and even the so called “Blue Monday” carry their own offerings and a subtle light all their own. If we stop fighting the seasons, even the darkest Monday glows with its own quiet possibility. Perhaps the truth of January is not in what we expect it to be, but in what it simply is – a winter unfolding, patient, deep, and unexpectedly luminous. Maybe all we’ve ever needed to thrive in this month was simply to bear witness – to the world around us and the world within.

Wishing you all the best of the season,
Jess (J.L. Fizzell)