I wish you rest.

Welcome to the January blahs.

I wish I had a more poetic introduction, but this is what you get.

It is mid-January after all.

I know I am not alone in spending way more time in bed than I normally do. I know that the January blahs will be the focus of my time with clients and conversations on social media.

Not just the blahs – but how the mismatch of energy and goals leads into spirals of guilt and shame.

If Santa could grant me one wish, I’d love for him to take away our guilt and shame about the January blahs.

We are a part of Nature. Just as our planet has its seasons, we too have times of harvest and times of fallow. We can’t produce, produce, produce. We need time to let our selves be replenished. In the Northern hemisphere, winter gives us the perfect weather for nourishing ourselves.

But capitalism has made it so there is no time more demanding and depleting than the December holidays. At a time when nature screams at us with her short days and long nights, “just go to bed!” we’re expected to go to party after party, shop late into the night, then get up in the wee hours of the morning to get all of the cooking done.

If we don’t allow ourselves to recouperate, we will have nothing left for next season.

“So what do I do with all of my resolutions and my vision board and my new day timers?” you may be asking.

You can let those too rest, for now. They will wait for you, I promise.

Since Santa is done for the year, this is my present for you:

You here by have my permission to rest.

First, make a to-do list of only the absolutely necessary must-dos for the next six weeks. The things that would have harsh consequences if they are not done now. What do you need to pay for the roof over your head and keep food in the fridge. What needs to be done so that your credit score doesn’t tank?

Then, make a separate list for the want-to-dos. Anything that comes to mind that is not a must-do. Don’t worry about getting it all on this list. This is a list that will come together in its own time. Think of it as a place to put seeds for planting later when the soil thaws.

Now, each day, for the next six weeks, do the bare minimum on the must-do list. When you manage that, set yourself up in the comfiest spot in your home and stay there. Align yourself so you can look out the window, up at the sky, away from that pile you want to Marie-Kondo and the upcycling projects.

Read, watch, and play whatever is easy. EASY. You have full permission to scroll social media aimlessly or play round after round of Candy Crush or WHATEVER IS EASY.

This may mean that you and those in your charge eat the bare minimum of nutrients, that the dishes pile up and the clean laundry and dirty laundry mountains sometimes mix up. No one will look back in six months or six years and recall what was eaten or what wasn’t cleaned up.

In simpler times, we’d have large extended families; what work had to be done was made light by many hands. We’d rest with the elders telling us stories and playing simple games by candlelight. This isn’t so different, except that you my friend are so much more depleted from trying to do it all on your own.

Now, only look at your “want-to-do” list when you’re bored too bits. Only get up when you’re body has the fidgets for being in one place so long. If you don’t look at the “want-to-do” list for the whole six weeks, don’t.

The only constant in this life is change – you can sink into the comforts of deep rest, knowing that it is in your nature to rise again.

If you feed your fire with enough rest, you won’t be able to hold yourself back when you get going. You will rebel against this self-imposed down-time like dandelions pushing through cracks in concrete.

If resting is hard, please reach out for more support. I’m here and would be honoured to help.

With Love,

Tanya