A New Approach To January
CHOOSING TO WINTER
I’ve already accidentally :
signed up for 2 new year challenges.
watched a webinar on the possibility of becoming a certified functional nutrition coach.
contemplated 2-5 new careers
gotten on the scale too many times
researched multiple yoga studios but have not made the commitment to one because I can’t figure out the perfect place, class time, or preferred heating method.
bought a new planner that I probably won’t use.
And I’m exhausted.
We put lots of pressure on January and the new versions of US we want to be. We think we can flip a switch in our lives like we can flip to a new calendar once the clock strikes midnight. But that is not what January promises.
I wonder what life would feel like if we looked at January for what it is.
January is - Winter.
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the definition of WINTER is —
a period of inactivity
And when used as a verb it says —
to keep, feed, or manage.
I want to be like January.
She’s dark, quiet, tucked in, incubating, hibernating — and looks more like a season of remembering, dreaming, and rest.
For years I’ve found myself saying - “I feel pressure to have some things figured out by January.” I allowed January 1st to become the deadline for deciding what I wanted the entire year ahead to look like. When truthfully I needed to approach January differently.
I needed to allow myself to winter - to rest - to keep - to feed - to manage.
January is a time to replenish, reimagine, and cast vision. It gives space to be still and listen. To ready ourselves to notice what God wants to show us. It's a pause for us to become expectant of His plans and lose the fear of saying YES when He places new opportunities in our paths.
January will give us a moment to breathe if we’re willing to settle in and take it. This type of January does not feel fast or shiny. It feels slow and quiet - it feels reflective. Honoring what we’ve finished and mindfully preparing for what’s next.
When we run into the new year frantically ready to leave the last one behind us - the rush causes us to outpace our potential. January tells us it’s time to winter and the world tries to tell us it's time to bloom. But choosing to winter allows the chance to bloom with intention and a clear purpose in the right season.
The commercialized “fast growth January” feels forced and unsustainable. It may appear shiny on the surface, but it lacks the depth needed to nourish the roots our dreams require.
How can I see what God has in store for me if run on the world’s schedule? I’m all for fresh starts and I do need to make some changes to my rhythms and routines but that does not mean that I need more of them or that they need to be faster. I know without a doubt God does not want us to be so exhausted.
Even though we’re a week+ in - let’s think about what a new approach to January could look like for us. It’s not too late.
Less hurry, less hustle, less goal setting. More resting, more keeping what works, and letting go of what doesn't. It includes time to feed our dreams with the hope God provides. And being a grateful steward of our already very present blessings. It also opens up space for God to mend our wounds. Because we slow down long enough to be willing participants in the healing.
When I use the last bit of me to launch myself into a new year with a fresh start I can expect a quick burnout. If that feels like something you recognize then join me in doing it differently this year.
I’m choosing January - I’m with her.
My soul needs what she provides.
Navy blue nights filled with bright stars and a chill in the air. Fires that refine while keeping us warm and still. A time to burrow vs build. A time to listen, to be still, to keep, to feed, to manage - a time to winter.
My hope for us?
That we embrace a January filled with more possibility and less performance.
What would life look like if you decided to WINTER?
Forever cheering you on ~ Allison



Yes, yes, yes 🥰 This is exactly what we need. Thank you for writing this down for us. The world needs this reminder.