We have just completed 1,000 days of January, and we are exhausted. Hibernation has been interrupted by noise and uncertainty, by a sense that rest must always be hard earned. I didn’t feel the usual sanctuary of quiet in this hush space between holiday season and the coming of spring. I feel weary and un-rested.
But February 1 comes bathed in the light of the full Snow Moon. It is the second full moon of winter, and its presence places us on the certain path of emerging spring and the waning of winter’s grasp. Even as the coldest days have arrived, the darkest days are behind us, and the sun’s warmth is promising its return.
This exact midpoint between the shortest night of the year and the first day of spring is a perfect time to kindle warm fires, read by candlelight, sip steaming mugs of lively tea, journal about the unrest preventing proper hibernation, and dream of rejuvenation.
This season is demanding resilience in ways many of us have never had to experience. It demands standing strong in the cold, bracing against the winds that blow, and nurturing a small flame of hope tucked deep in our armored down coats. We can refuse to give in to despair, imagining that coming warmth before it’s even visible.
This year, we must count even interrupted rest as rest enough. I’ll keep the candle lit until the days soften and learn how to lengthen again. Until we can finally breathe a collective sigh of relief.
Journal Journey prompt for Monday, Feb. 2 -
Reflect on your own 1,000 days of January:
Where have you felt exhausted or drained this season?
What small flame of hope or comfort can you nurture now?
How can you honor rest, so you may meet spring with rejuvenated energy?
Be safe. Be well. ~❤️
February’s calendar is below:

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