Welcome to “No Judgement January”
By Sue Sutherland-Wood
Not unlike the glittery flakes of a snow globe slowly drifting into stillness, so too can the days after the holidays finally settle down. The frantic bustle of getting things done, back-to-back social gatherings and constantly doing dishes (I always joke that Jacob Marley’s “ponderous chain” in A Christmas Carol should have been made of high-quality saucepans) finally comes to a halt.
Indeed, just as we are preparing to enjoy our first deep breath in many weeks, headlines and social media suddenly become ablaze with suggestions to herald a New Year such as joining a gym or becoming more mindful of our finances — which may well have taken a kicking through the holiday season.
But looking outside the window at what must be the greyest time of the year, watching the snow blow sideways, I can’t help but wonder if the timing for such gruelling demands on our bodies and schedules might be asking too much. “Dry January” feels like an especially cruel joke and I recently read someone facetiously suggesting “Parched March” as a much better alternative.
When the weather turns cold, my habits and tastes shift accordingly: breakfast cereal is now unthinkable with all that icy milk first thing and preference will be given to hot creamy oatmeal. Even my reading tastes take a different pivot in the winter since stodgy classics seem easier to tackle than they would be at other times of the year. Similarly, if there’s a glossy poutine on offer it’s definitely going to be more appealing than a cold, limp salad at the end of a hard day. Plus, I briefly get to feel patriotic! Soups that fill the house with steamy goodness return to steady rotation and the slow cooker quietly resumes its production of savoury taco fillings. And yes, I will bow to those protein-filled smoothies brimming with green goodness, but at this time of year?
I just can’t.
Several years ago I decided, in a sudden burst of New Year’s zeal, to challenge myself with adult swimming lessons. I am not a fan of the water — or even getting wet — but I thought this would be character-building and a fun way to get through the winter. Noble thoughts. But I hated every minute, from getting changed to that first frigid plunge. At least the Scandinavians have those hot mineral springs to look forward to afterwards! When I eventually left the pool, I had to tug thick socks over shrivelled, resisting feet before returning
to my car, which then required further snow removal. I did not feel the soaring sense of pride I was hoping for but I did feel miserable and a creeping sense of dread for the next session.
Not saying that the fear factor didn’t influence my negativity here but the pleasure of getting into a summery-hot car after being so cold would not have been unwelcome!
Last year when I was cleaning out the garage, I found a short coil of old carpet with a single deep hole in the middle of the spiral. I carefully unrolled it to reveal a snug interior expertly lined with shredded leaves and a confetti layer of brightly coloured wool. No one was home. But it was impossible not to be charmed — and impressed! Unlike many wildlife, sensible Canadian mice do not hibernate but instead, create the coziest nest possible and venture out only to forage.
Since I had unwisely decided to store a large sack of bird food in the garage that year, this particular family of mice had only a few paces to go to dive into (literally!) an all-you-can-eat safflower buffet.
As I was picturing this scenario, I was uncomfortably reminded of my nightly ritual of curling up with a blanket in front of the TV, vacating the warmth I’ve created only if no one else is willing to bring me a snack.
Of course, I do understand the appeal of a fresh start and it’s laudable to make any kind of effort, especially in matters of health; in fact, I am very familiar with that “pre-new-habit giddiness” that involves the hunt for better running shoes or superior olive oil. But it’s equally important to retain some balance so we don’t end up feeling deprived — and, frankly, sad — at this bleakest time of the year and end up abandoning new initiatives altogether.
I recall an elderly friend once saying: “There’s always time to start again. I’ve got another 24 hours in the morning I haven’t even touched yet!” •