There are few moments as intoxicating as the dawn of a new year, when the the siren song of our healthiest, happiest, and wisest selves rings clear and sweet.

But while January is a month of high hopes, February is littered with jettisoned resolutions.

How might we more intentionally live each year?

I don't say this to condemn resolutions. In fact, I believe resolutions are reflections of our most tender and audacious wishes for a better world -- no wonder it hurts when we break them.

Resolutions take energy to start and sustain.

I recently finished Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, and find myself returning to these words (emphasis added):

Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t [attempt] to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer…

...slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting—is a radical act now, but it is essential. This is a crossroads we all know, a moment when you need to shed a skin. If you do, you’ll expose all those painful nerve endings and feel so raw that you’ll need to take care of yourself for a while. If you don’t, then that skin will harden around you. It’s one of the most important choices you’ll ever make.

As we enter our third year of pandemic living, only one thing is certain: we are exhausted.

In the northern hemisphere, the new year arrives in the dead of winter, meaning that we ask our soft, animal bodies to spend energy on resolutions while simultaneously bracing for the coldest part of the year. Now, more than ever, I believe that wintering is necessary to sustaining resolutions and living vibrantly.

What are your radical acts of rest, and how might your life change if you allowed yourself to lean into them?