Winter Care: What Doing Less Looks Like in January

Do Less, Better

January doesn’t feel frantic to me.

That’s intentional.

December gave me something I don’t usually have the rest of the year: time that wasn’t fragmented. Between my partner’s birthday, our anniversary, the holidays, and New Year’s, I stepped away from work in a real way. I closed what I could. I noted what I couldn’t. And I trusted that the rest could wait.

So when January arrived, I didn’t come back depleted. I came back motivated, with energy I was intentionally conserving.

My energy is steady and intentionally protected. I’m easing back into work, picking up threads deliberately, updating systems, making short lists instead of sweeping plans. Things that didn’t get finished in December didn’t become failures—they became items scheduled for January 9, when I was actually back. And that’s when I handled them.

This is what winter care looks like for me.

A Peaceful Winter Street in San Pedro, CA

The January Pressure That Doesn’t Help

January has a reputation for urgency.

Aggressive goal-setting. Total routine overhauls. Big declarations about who we’re going to be this time. I understand why—it comes from hope, not delusion. But I’ve learned that pushing hard at the very beginning rarely creates the consistency people are actually looking for.

When we rush into goals, we often carry an unspoken belief with us: I need to succeed at this now because I didn’t before.

That belief often leads to speed, while stability is still what people are actually seeking.

Overhauling routines all at once or setting aggressive goals in the first week of January doesn’t account for how change actually works. If something didn’t stick before, moving faster at it rarely helps. What usually helps is designing with more care.

Winter isn’t asking us to sprint. It’s asking us to orient.

A Slower Frame for Goals

What if January wasn’t about executing goals—but about guiding into them?

Instead of finishing all goal-setting in the first week, what if the entire month was allowed to be reflective? One goal per week. One area of life at a time. Space to notice resistance before committing to action.

There’s a growing body of thought—from rest-centered frameworks to research on habit formation—that points to the same idea: sustainability comes from alignment, not force. When people feel rested, they make better decisions. When systems are designed gradually, they’re more likely to last.

Doing less here is a matter of sequencing.

What Doing Less Looks Like in Practice

For me, doing less in January means holding things loosely.

Routines come back with flexibility. Goals exist with room to breathe. I know what I’m committed to—relaunching Handled in Los Angeles, returning to my doctoral work, showing up consistently—but I’m not demanding immediate momentum from myself.

I’m also saying no.

I’ve already declined several things this month, simply because they didn’t align with the pace I’m protecting. Saying no is a form of prevention. When I say no, I automatically safeguard time and attention without needing to justify it.

And I’m sleeping.

Shorter days make that easier to honor. Winter light is limited; energy follows. Ignoring that reality doesn’t make us stronger; it usually leaves us tired sooner.

Why This Matters

Doing less in January isn’t about abandoning expectations for the year.

It’s about creating conditions where effort actually counts.

When goals are held gently, they’re more honest. When routines are reintroduced slowly, they’re more likely to stick. When rest is preserved instead of rushed through, clarity has room to emerge.

Winter care is Preparatory.

A Question to Sit With

As January unfolds, consider this quietly:

Where could you allow guidance to come before execution this year?

You don’t need to act on it yet. Just notice.