I know this may be difficult to accept, but I have done extensive research into the matter. I have, in fact, personally participated in over 50 case studies. So, in spite of the potential controversy, I feel qualified to make this statement.

January can be hard.

There. I said it. January, as a month, as a string of days, can feel really difficult to get through.

December comes roaring at you full blast. Even in a year like this, with most holiday events being cancelled or virtualized – is virtualized a word? is it the correct word to describe the taking of gatherings and festivities and transforming them into dreadful, lifeless Zoom meetings? well anyway, you know what I mean – December still barrels along. Shopping, decorating, cooking, joy, stress, hope, sadness, more cooking. December pushes so many buttons, and it just does not stop.

And then that chaos runs straight into wrapping up the current year – can’t wait to see the last of you! – and looking toward the glorious New Year – welcome! thought you’d never arrive! And it’s so easy to get caught up in all the hype, all the imagined potential; even though we all know, deep in our hearts, that the amazing, totally awesome, gotta be better, New Year is really just…tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.

December is like running through the jungle, hacking at branches and vines, fighting through thick, tangling undergrowth, moving forward as fast as you possibly can. And then suddenly it’s January and you’ve stumbled into a clearing and you find yourself in quicksand.*

You’re sinking. You can’t move. You try to slog forward, and you just sink deeper. You start flailing in panic, and it gets worse and worse. Nothing you do helps. You’re going to be trapped in January forever.

Yeah, January can be hard.

But guess what you learn after participating in over 50 case studies? Well apparently, it’s not how to avoid that horrible quicksand in the first place. Maybe that requires 60 or even 70 case studies? You do learn, though, to stop panicking. You learn to take a deep breath and tell yourself, “hey remember, January is always like this.” You learn that the quicksand of January is really just your heart and mind needing a rest after the mad dash of December. And you learn to slowly make your way out of the clinging sand and begin moving forward again, without feeling like you failed or wasted time. You didn’t waste time, you rested.

Healing rest is a good thing.

If you are a fellow quicksand flailer, I hope you’re starting to feel like you’re back on solid ground. And if you’re one of those who sails into January with fresh air in your lungs and hope in your heart, then you keep making strides. We’ll catch up soon.

*And, yes. Almost my entire knowledge of quicksand, where you encounter it and how it works, came from Gilligan’s Island and 70’s and 80’s television shows. How did you know?