Happy New Year + A Quiet Invitation for January

I love what January ushers in — new calendars, a lighter schedule, a house decluttered from the decorations of Christmas. If ever there is a fresh start, this is it. It’s something else, too. The roller coaster ride that begins in the fall and lasts through the holidays comes to a halt in the early weeks of the new year. The excessiveness of December, followed by the quiet of January, can be jarring — but it brings a choice. We can view the spaciousness as a gift or be resistant to it.

I wonder what would happen if we moved away from the drive to better ourselves each new year — and chose instead to quiet ourselves. I wonder what would happen if we made space for reflection and contemplation instead of frantically filling in our new planner. What if instead of a new year, new you — you were simply … you?

As this year comes to a close, I want to offer a few things as you turn the page to January. My intention is not that you’d take on all these practices, but you’d find one or two that might allow you to see January as a gift.

Quiet Yourself:

• Take a break! Turn off podcasts or TV, shut down social media (whatever is the loudest) and take a break. A practice I began this year is to delete social media apps when my kids have extended time off from school. I’ve found it sometimes hard but always freeing to take time off. I can be more present to them yes, but also to myself.

• Find a book of prayers or blessings, or read through the Pslams as a quiet practice. A few favorites are Jan Richardson’s: A Circle of Grace, John O’Donohue’s: Bless This Space Between Us, and A Rhythm of Prayer - edited by Sarah Bessey.

• I’d also highly recommend Jennifer Grant’s Dimming the Day: Evening Meditations for Quiet Wonder. It was one of my favorite reads of 2022. It is a great way to end your day quietly.

Make Space for Reflection and Contemplation:

• I ordered Emily P. Freeman’s The Next Right Thing Guided Journal as a companion to encourage reflection not only in January, but throughout the year.

• Theologian Walter Burghardt says that contemplation is taking a long, loving look at the real. Simple tools like centering prayer, quiet walks, and journaling are lovely companions to a life of contemplation.

• I will always recommend Spiritual Direction — as a safe space to reflect and take that long loving look.

I’m writing this to you on the Winter Solstice (though I won't send it for another week); it’s cold, the sun is hidden — and my house is quiet. Soon it will be full of kids, screen time noise (and the noise of screen time requests), laughter and playfulness, and arguing — all the sounds of family life. In the coming days, we’ll have grandparents, neighbors, and friends join us, music playing, presents to open, food to eat, and on and on.

I say all this to acknowledge that, at this moment, it is easy for me to write (and dream) about a quiet January. But as you read these words, the roller coaster will be coming to a stop for me too. The transition from noise to quiet will be difficult for me too. I’ll be inclined to say, “let’s have a no-spend January” or “I need to cut back on sugar.” I’ll feel uncomfortable with my calendar being bare and plan things I’ll likely regret later. It will be difficult, as I log back into Instagram, to reject the culture of striving for a new, better version of myself.

What I’m saying is I’m writing this for me too. When these words drop in my inbox, I hope I’ll take a few deep breaths and remind myself that I am beloved, just as I am, right now at this moment (and I hope you will too). There will be no need to fear the quiet, and I hope I choose to see it as the gift it is.

Truly alongside you,

Holly

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A Collect for Winter

God of the Winter,
who dwells in light and darkness.
May we find your quiet presence
on these dark January nights.
Amen