“New Year, New You”
I noticed this phrase absolutely everywhere in the lead up to New Year’s Eve. My social media feeds were overflowing with well-meaning slogans encouraging behaviour changes the moment the clock struck midnight. I was told I should make my resolutions to eat cleaner, move more, drink less, sleep better…and of course sign up for that gym membership.
Now, anyone who knows me knows I am extremely goal oriented. I love a plan. I love a list. I love fresh notebooks and colour coded calendars. But even I had to pause and reflect on this messaging. Is January really the best time to pile more pressure onto myself? Does turning the page of my calendar onto a new month really create a “new me”?
I sincerely hope not. I spent the majority of January being sick. If this is the “new me”, I want a refund.
The New Year has a funny way of asking a lot from us. We’re coming off the busy holiday season, are now dealing with a financial hangover, avoiding a variety of cold viruses, and still experiencing the darkest, coldest days of the year. Yet we are told this is the moment to optimize ourselves, push harder, do more, and be “better”.
Meanwhile, nature is doing the exact opposite.
Everything around us is slowing down. The days are shorter, the mornings are dark, and the ground is cold. This is a season of hibernation and rest meant to conserve energy. However, us humans often behave as though we are exempt from that rhythm. We expect ourselves to operate at full speed all year round, relying on artificial light from our phones, offices, and screens to keep us awake and ready to spring into action.
Don’t get me wrong, engagement still matters. We can’t spend the entire winter under a blanket on the couch (although it may be tempting). But we need to keep in mind there’s a difference between engaging with life and relentlessly pushing ourselves through it.
As we continue into the remaining winter months, I’m trying to do something different. I’m trying to notice and lean into what nature is doing instead of fighting it. That looks like still moving my body, but without the pressure to lift heavier, go faster, or “make up” for lost time while I’ve been recovering from illness. It looks like walking a bit slower and noticing the small things around me like the sound of rain tapping on my umbrella or the gushing water in creeks swollen from winter storms. It looks like going to bed earlier and feeling some gratitude for the darkness and the quiet.
I’ve always loved nature, and this season is reminding me how grounding it can be if we let it. There’s something deeply regulating about paying attention to what’s happening around us instead of constantly demanding more of ourselves. It’s a different kind of productivity. One that is rooted in awareness rather than output.
Maybe that’s what winter offers us. A reminder that darkness isn’t something to fear or be annoyed at. That rest isn’t laziness and slowing down doesn’t mean we’re falling behind or “failing”.
Now, as we move into February (the month where many New Year’s resolutions have quietly fallen away) I find myself asking some different questions. Instead of white knuckling through a stricter routine, what if we refocused? What if we gave ourselves permission to rest and recharge while winter is still here? What would that result in and how would it feel different?
In my opinion, a very strong building block for mental health is self-compassion. It’s ok to listen to our bodies and recognize that we are part of a larger natural rhythm. It’s more than ok to slow down and appreciate the winter for what it brings to us.
Maybe this season isn’t about becoming someone “new”.
Maybe it’s about honouring and caring for who we already are.
Written by Cat Zydyk