January
January has a reputation for being the "bluest" month, of the year. It’s even been given its own Blue Monday, the third Monday of the month.
I used to fully adopt the “January Blues”, wallowing in that post-holiday slump. It’s easy to feel down when the days are short, the weather’s dreary, and your credit card bills from Christmas land in your inbox. And then, of course, we go from the magic of December—twinkling lights, parties, and extra time off—to the cold, hard reality of January. It feels like January doesn’t even stand a chance to compete.
But over time, I’ve started looking at January a little differently, and in recent years have really started to appreciate all it has to offer. Sure, it’s not December, but it’s got its own special qualities if you shift your perspective. I’ve realised that January can be a time to reset, to slow down, and to actually embrace rest—something we rarely give ourselves permission to do.
I’m a Celt from Edinburgh, and I’ve found a lot of peace in using the Celtic Calendar to guide me through the seasons. It focuses on aligning with nature’s rhythms, not fighting against them. The darker, quieter days of January aren’t something to fear; they’re a chance to create a warm, cozy atmosphere. Candles, soft lighting, woolly jumpers and spending time with close friends over a warm drink really bring a sense of comfort to the month. It's a bit like the Danish Fika or Swedish Hygge—simple joys that help us find connection with others and the beauty in the quiet moments.
January has also become a time for me to slow down. I allow myself to go to bed a little earlier, curl up with a book under a blanket, and reflect on the year before. What worked for me? What do I want to keep? What do I want to change? It's kind of like taking a breath before the rush of the year really begins.
So now, I try to embrace the month instead of resisting it. I ask myself: Is January really as depressing as I’ve been conditioned to think? Or have I just bought into the myth that it has to be? Maybe, just maybe, it’s an opportunity to rest, reset, and really connect with the simpler, slower moments.
