JANUARY. What is January supposed to be? Yes, it is nearly February, but I’ve spent the past month thinking about how to take on the year. I’ve been torn between days of feeling like I have all the energy and motivation to take action right now towards what I’m envisioning for myself versus wondering if and how I should give myself the time to sit back, listen and be open to how these things could enter my life differently than the plan I have mapped out in my head.

Everywhere we look so many of us are diving head first into the new goals we’ve set, habits we hope to incorporate, and projects we decided we’re going to start (and cross our fingers, finish). It’s hard not to join in on the parade of people marching in one direction in efforts to take more control of our lives. While some are ready for it, I also think that with the busyness of the holidays, our social calendars in December, and every form of media selling us on how we could possibly improve in the New Year, we end up jumping right off the deep end into January without giving ourselves the space to really see what might be next for us and what we want to focus our attention on.

My favorite artist / poet / writer, Tess Guinery, put forth a different perspective earlier this month that I’ve tried to let guide my view of the start of the year because it really resonated — January as the space between, the secret place between years. January as a month to let ourselves see how it will unfold before deciding for ourselves exactly how it is to be.

“As the year turns, may you too find your own lacuna—a space where the future is not yet fully known, but lingers in the distance, waiting for its moment to reveal itself.

And may this space hold you as you prepare to meet what will unfold…A space not to grasp, but to receive what is yet to be. A time to sit, to be, and to discern before you hurry on in, and ask—what of it is yours, and what is not?”

And when I’ve given myself these moments of in between, they have shown me inspiration. Inspiration that will continue to lead me to action in these coming months. I felt the nudge to start a new writing course by an author I admire. I’ll work through it this year to start defining my style, get comfortable with the pace I write, and equip myself with some tools to create my own writing process. It's already manifested into jotting out more thoughts for my book, more journal entries for this blog, and a little more confidence that maybe I should keep doing this thing. I’ve also felt inspiration and a sense of readiness to take action towards a new career path without knowing what it quite looks like yet, but the excitement I feel has to mean I’m headed somewhere.

This in between of January has also reminded me of nature’s ability to ground us — to bring us back to the quiet within. Nature seems to drown out the noise, welcoming us to “stay awhile” — something Mary Oliver writes in When I am Among the Trees. It calls us to be present to what is around us. For me, this grounding from nature is sometimes found in the mountains when the bitter chill sits against the backdrop of blue skies and the smell of fresh pine leaves its frosted white branches. It’s top of mind because I was just engulfed in the rocky mountains, but whenever I am outside, no matter the season, it seems to remind me of the calm within. It can provide inspiration that we don’t need to go searching for elsewhere.

I like the idea of January as the space between — there will likely always be seasons that we are in between one place before arriving somewhere else, but as we approach the year ahead, I think it’s worth pausing (even if it’s now February) to let it begin to unfold without forcing our own action right away.

I don’t have my own answers to what the coming months will turn into, but I do have a sense of direction and inspiration, so I guess all I can do is try to follow that. There’s a hopefulness to January, that just maybe, something new is around the corner for us all.

Book Recommendation:

Unrelated to the taking on the New Year, but one of my January reads, The Dutch House by Anne Patchett, is a Pulitzer Prize Finalist set over five decades exploring the interwoven lives of two siblings, whose relationship to one piece of real estate shapes the course of their lives. Written from the perspective of the younger brother, a childhood home becomes more than just a place he and his sister once lived in. It is an embodiment of the people they’ve loved and lost, the life it and did not provide them, and how the past always catches up to the future if you never accept and forgive those who’ve hurt you.