January Reflections: A Cozy Start to 2025
As January comes to a close, I’m taking some time to pause and reflect—a habit I hope to cultivate throughout this year. My intention is to dive deeper into how I’ve been feeling, how I’ve spent my time, what has brought me joy, and what has challenged me. This process feels like an important way to stay in tune with myself as I move through 2025.
January has been an interesting mix of emotions and experiences. It began on a high note as I returned home from a week in Málaga, where I spent precious time with family and my lifelong best friend. There’s something about the sunshine, the sound of waves, and the slower pace of life in Spain that fills me up in a way few other places can. Morning walks along the beach, delicious meals, card games like Skyjo, and my daily dose of Wordle were simple pleasures that made my days bright.
Perhaps my favorite part of the trip was writing. The vacation home we stayed in felt like a writer’s haven. With windows overlooking the sea and a quiet little retreat space, I found myself waking early each morning, eager to put words on the page. Those mornings were magical.
Coming home, though, was tough. Germany greeted me with its typical January gloom—cold, dark, and dreary. But as I walked into my house, I was instantly grateful I hadn’t yet taken down the Christmas tree. The twinkling lights in my living room brought an unexpected sense of warmth and coziness, easing the transition back to daily life.
Still, the adjustment wasn’t without its challenges. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), so I’m especially mindful of how winter can affect my well-being. The week after returning from Spain, I noticed myself slipping—three consecutive days of staying up too late, not eating well, and avoiding the outdoors took a toll on my mood and clarity. By the third evening, I felt anxiety creeping in.
(To learn more about Seasonal Affective Disorder, you can visit the Mayo Clinic’s website by clicking THIS LINK.)
Recognizing these shifts early is something I’ve worked hard to master over the years. Writing, journaling, and using mood-tracking apps have been invaluable tools in helping me stay connected to myself and avoid spiraling too far. When I noticed these patterns in early January, I knew I needed to take action.
So, on the fourth day, despite my overwhelming desire to stay in pajamas and binge Netflix, I got dressed and went for a 30-minute walk. The cold, brutal weather made my knee ache with every step, but even so, the simple act of being outside shifted my perspective. That evening, determined to shake things up even more, I announced to my boys that we were going out to dinner.
It felt so good to leave the house. We rarely eat out in winter because most restaurants in our beachside town are closed for the off-season, and I genuinely enjoy cooking at home. But this outing was exactly what we needed. We laughed, reminisced about Spain, and reconnected. I even bought myself a new sweater, though it’s still sitting on the armchair in my room with the tags on. I’m undecided about keeping it, as part of me feels two sweaters are enough—but the act of treating myself felt symbolic of choosing lightness that day.
After that small reset, the rest of January felt lighter. I found a good rhythm with my writing, working steadily on my novel. My days were a mix of productivity, driving the kids to appointments, and savoring cozy evenings at home.
The only real heartbreak came toward the end of the month, when storms in Scotland canceled my flight to visit my oldest son and grandson. Missing them weighs heavily on my heart, but weather is beyond our control. I’ve rescheduled the trip for spring, and I’m already counting down the days until I can hug them both.
Looking back on January, I feel grateful. It wasn’t a perfect month—there were moments of sadness and disorientation—but it was steady, cozy, and productive. The post-holiday blues were real for a few days, but taking small, intentional actions helped me navigate through them.
This process of monthly reflection feels meaningful already. It’s a way to honor the experiences, big and small, that shape my days and to stay mindful of how I want to live. As I move into February, I’ll carry forward the lessons of this month: that intentional action, no matter how small, can shift the course of a hard day, and that light—whether from a Christmas tree, a sunny walk, or the people we love—is always worth seeking.
Here’s to a reflective and mindful 2025.
