January traditionally arrives with a lot of pressure to reset and reinvent, with New Year, New You hype bringing expectations that we should launch into new versions of ourselves from day one. It can feel as though if you’re not already moving forward, you’re somehow falling behind. But real life in January often tells a different story.
With dark mornings, tired minds, and a lot of coughs and colds doing the rounds, there’s a natural instinct to slow down and turn inwards rather than charge ahead. And this is where the idea of wintering comes in.
Funnily enough, over our Christmas break, Tracey started writing this article based a few things she had seen and been chatting about recently and Stef had curled up to read "Wintering" by Katherine May. Just another example of how in sync we often are even when not working or chatting daily!

At its heart, wintering is about honouring the season you’re in. It isn’t about giving up or putting your life on hold. It’s a conscious pause. A time to rest and recharge, by listening to what your body and mind are asking for, rather than what the calendar insists you should be doing.
That doesn’t mean motivation or intention-setting don’t have a place. For some, establishing new routines and setting intentions can feel grounding in January. For others, rest comes first. Both approaches are valid. Wintering simply invites us to engage with the start of a new year on our own terms, tuning into what feels genuinely supportive rather than what feels expected.
Practising wintering doesn’t have to look a certain way. It’s less about following rules and more about gentle awareness. That might mean lowering the bar and choosing one or two priorities instead of trying to overhaul everything at once. It could be allowing yourself earlier nights without guilt, or moving your body in ways that feel nourishing rather than punishing. For some, it’s reducing noise, scrolling less, saying no more often. For others, it’s checking in regularly and asking a simple question: What would support me right now?
Perhaps it's a question of embracing JOMO (the joy of missing out), rather than FOMO (the fear of missing out)?
In Guernsey, the season has a way of reinforcing that message. Some days bring wild, stormy weather that encourages us to stay close to home, to slow down and simplify. Others are crisp and clear, bright with winter sun, drawing us outside for fresh air, movement and a change of perspective. The rhythm shifts from day to day, reminding us that wellbeing isn’t fixed, and neither is how we need to show up.
Seen this way, January doesn’t have to be a dramatic reset or a race towards transformation. It can be something quieter and more essential - a softer start to the year, shaped by the season we’re in. One that allows us to restore first, so that when momentum returns, we’re ready to meet it with intention as the year unfolds.