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Frost-covered grass in early morning winter light, symbolising rest, stillness and seasonal slowing down.

January carries a lot of expectation.

The calendar turns, and with it comes a familiar sense that we should be ready to begin again. That we should feel motivated, know what we want, and take action. There’s often an unspoken assumption that something should shift simply because the year has changed.

But winter doesn’t always cooperate with that idea.

For many of us, January arrives with lower energy, cold mornings, and, if you’re anything like me, a nervous system still recovering from December. The pressure to set goals or commit to change can feel heavy, even when those changes are genuinely wanted.

Over the past few years, I’ve stopped seeing that heaviness as a personal failing. I’ve come to understand it for what it is: seasonal.

Why winter doesn’t support urgency

Winter isn’t a season for pushing forward. It’s a season for resting more, moving less, conserving energy, being cosy, taking naps, and letting the year begin slowly.

Lower motivation, quieter focus, and the need for more rest are not signs that anything is wrong. They are signals that the body is responding exactly as it should at this time of year.

This isn’t something I always recognised. In the past, I interpreted January sluggishness as a lack of discipline or commitment. If I struggled to keep a resolution, I assumed the problem was me.

Needing naps, moving slowly in the mornings, and feeling burnt out by the end of December left me feeling embarrassed and quietly ashamed, as though my body was letting me down. I see it differently now.

Frost-covered seed heads in soft winter light, reflecting rest, patience and energy gathering quietly. — Winter isn’t a season for pushing forward.

Learning to accept winter energy (and stop blaming myself)

Reading Wintering by Katherine May helped reinforce what experience had already begun to teach me: that it’s not me doing life wrong, but life asking for something different. That’s where paying closer attention to the seasons made a difference for me.

Wintering is not about giving up or opting out. It is about understanding that growth does not happen at the same pace all year round. Some seasons are for action. Others are for recovery, reflection, and waiting.

Accepting this has changed how I meet January. I think about my nervous system far more now, and what it actually needs after a full, demanding year. Even when there are things I want to change, I’m gentler on myself if I’m not ready to act on them straight away. Wanting change and needing rest can exist at the same time.

That acceptance alone has lifted a surprising amount of pressure.

Letting January be what it is, not what it’s supposed to be

Rather than treating January as a starting line, I’ve begun to see it as a month to rest, reflect, and not react.

A time to go slow and be gentle with yourself. A time to notice what feels depleted, and how you might want that to change. A time to let ideas sit without demanding decisions from them.

In my December post, What I’m putting in next year’s diary and quietly starting now, I wrote about the habit of noticing before planning. January is where that noticing continues, without the expectation that it needs to turn into action yet.

There is something quietly supportive about letting ideas, intentions, and even frustrations remain unresolved for a while. Not everything needs to be named, scheduled, or fixed straight away.

I’ll be honest, this hasn’t been easy. I’ve been so used to pushing through in life, especially when my energy is low, that I’ve often launched myself into January looking for changes and fixes, even when I’m not ready for them.

Learning to pause instead has softened the pressure I used to put on myself to have everything figured out by January. In the last couple of years, I’ve enjoyed this time of year so much more.

Soft winter sunrise through frost-covered trees, suggesting gradual change, returning light and a gentle transition between seasons.

When change starts to feel easier

For me, the desire to begin again tends to arrive later.

As the days lengthen. As the light returns. As energy lifts without being forced.

Spring Equinox has become a far kinder moment to reassess what I want to move towards. By then, the noise has softened, and what matters feels clearer. Any changes that emerge feel more rooted and less reactive.

That doesn’t mean January is wasted time. It serves a different purpose. It prepares the ground.

A quieter permission for January

If New Year’s resolutions feel heavy this year, it doesn’t mean you lack motivation or clarity. It may simply mean you are responding honestly to the season you’re in.

January doesn’t have to be about reinventing yourself. It can be about resting, observing, and giving yourself time.

For now, I’m choosing to winter a little longer. To move slowly, listen more closely, and resist the urge to have everything figured out straight away.

That feels like a kinder way to begin the new year.

Sarah is the founder of Mindful & Me, a reflective wellbeing space for women in midlife, sharing gentle, practical support around perimenopause, seasonal living, and slowing down, often inspired by real life.

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Why January Isn’t the Best Time for New Year’s Resolutions