For me, the new year begins in spring.

I’ve never really understood the rush of January, the sudden urgency around New Year’s resolutions, the idea of a “new me” and the pressure to plan, reinvent and optimise the year ahead. Every year we are told to set new goals and habits at exactly the moment when winter seems to ask for something entirely different. Not for beginnings, but for endings. For rest.

For me, winter has always been a time to slow down, to reflect and to turn inward. Nature does the same. Animals hibernate, the days grow darker, and trees let go of their leaves without resistance. It feels like a season meant for cocooning rather than committing, for softening rather than pushing forward.

I don’t use this time to set goals or make big decisions. Instead, I allow myself to rest. I sleep a little more, read new books, take long baths and start my mornings slowly with a cup of hot raw cacao. I pay attention to how I feel, without trying to fix it, and I give things the space to settle. Winter becomes a quiet listening period, a time to gently release what no longer serves me, without forcing clarity or direction.

And then, almost without effort, something always shifts. By the time spring arrives, I usually know what to do. The fog lifts, ideas feel lighter, and decisions come from a calmer, more grounded place. So maybe we can take some of the pressure off. You don’t need to rebrand yourself or start that new project right now. You don’t need to have it all figured out in January. Things will begin when your energy does. For me, that moment has always been spring. With Love, Sofie