January is a month of conflicts. On the one hand I have the start of a new year, resolutions I’m determined to beat for once, and that sense of “firsts” and how I should make them count. On the other hand it’s still the middle of grey winter, and I just completed a round of Holiday Festivities that, while enjoyable, required a ridiculous level of emotional and physical strength.
To put it simply, this January I woke up from a tinsel and gingerbread induced high and desperately wanted some time to rest. Some down time. A few moments—or days—to honor the biological tradition of hibernation. Christmas is exhausting. Why must New Years be a springboard?
Must it? Really?
Do you struggle with giving yourself permission? I’m not talking about permission to do those little “bad habit moments” that you can laugh off—like having a second piece of chocolate, reading a popcorn novel, or sleeping in an extra hour or two. I’m talking about permission to do reasonable things that other people might not understand. Might not be able to engage with. Things that might make other people think you’re just not toeing the mark, or you’re lazy, or you’re just not good enough.