I know. I know.

It’s January.

The start to the New Year.

Everyone is filled with so much motivation to lose the weight. To write the novel. To find true love. (Aren’t those the usual suspects when it comes to New Years resolutions?)

And then…there are the rest of us. The outliers who would rather slowly welcome the New Year with a warm embrace on these cold winter days, instead of meet them head on with a caffeinated rush of enthusiasm.

I read somewhere something that altered my brain chemistry a bit. A little comforting sprig of knowledge that I hadn’t considered and have taken to heart.

Historically, the winter has been a time to hibernate. To rest and recover until the spring when everything comes alive again.

It is spring that is the true New Year.

The energy is different. The sunlight begins to shift. The days become longer. And everything begins to grow.

So, I’ve decided to flow with the seasons. I refuse to go against my personal grain any longer. If winter is a time to go inward and reflect, then go inward and reflect is what I will do. If this is a time of planning and organizing and preparing through rest, then that is what I will do.

I have goals, and things I wish to achieve in the New Year, but I refuse to borrow on tomorrow’s energy for today. I will meet my tasks with ease until spring comes again.

Until next week, friends.