Happy New Year! Now, hold your horses.
Maybe you’re awake earlier than usual today because you’re starting a new routine or cultivating some new habit. Maybe you went to bed early last night, set out some gym clothes, or packed your lunch of salad, carrots, and hummus. Maybe you spent the last couple of days “getting it in while you can” before you “really dial it in.” Whatever “newness” you bring to today, I invite you to soften it. To hold your metaphorical New Year Horses.
Though our modern calendar marks January 1st as the New Year, nature teaches us that true renewal comes with spring. Energetically, the “new year” doesn’t really start until the Spring Equinox. It is the time when the earth is neither tilted toward nor away from the sun. Nearly equal amounts of both daylight and darkness. A beautiful picture of the balance and stability necessary before growth. This year, that’s March 20th.
The translation for us is not hard to see. We are still in the depths of winter, and if you’re here with me in Colorado, you know that some of our biggest and wettest snows are still to come, well into Spring. So why do we celebrate the New Year in January? This shift stems from centuries of calendar changes, but at its core, it reflects how far we’ve drifted from nature’s cycles.
This is still a season for soups and candles, warm baths, simmer pots, and tea—a time to embrace the gentleness of winter. It’s still a time to let the pink sunsets walk us home for dinner, to turn in early, and to let the darkness of the evening show us how to rest. What would it feel like to let yourself linger in this season of rest?
This is a time to reflect, simplify, and ready ourselves for the renewal that spring will bring. This is the invitation to find the stability and balance the equinox models for us. Imagine the peace that may come with this beautiful season of preparation before allowing your fire to burn as the season aligns with life emerging.
As we reflect and prepare in this season of stillness, let us ask 2025 to...
Stoke the fire of our hope.
Hold our fear with soft palms.
Show us the harvest of our seeds.
Answer our questions and give us new ones.
Show us new parts of ourselves and let us meet them with curiosity.
Keep us brave and peaceful.
I invite you to join me in a slow entry into 2025. May we ease into the year, as rested as possible, moving as slowly as needed.
As we welcome 2025, how might you honor this slower rhythm? What do you ask of 2025?
I’m anchoring to these words, feeling deeply the truth that it is still the season of “turning in early”, which is what my body and soul are craving.