the january blues
early-year syndrome, keepsakes, and monthly favourites
This January has been a rough one, hasn’t it? I want to do well in what I’m doing, start something new, maybe explore the ideas bubbling in my mind, but I also want to lie down and do nothing. Midway through the month, after my journal entries kept repeating themselves, it hit me. I’m suffering from early-year syndrome, a mix of ambition and lethargy, maybe more commonly known as the January blues.
It often presents as low motivation paired with big ideas, tiredness that sleep doesn’t quite fix, a dull sadness or flatness rather than acute despair, and a desire both to change and to opt out entirely. On top of that, the sparkly decorations are gone, spring is far away, and suddenly we’re left alone with ourselves, our routines, and our expectations.
why do we suffer from the january blues?
There are a few layers here, and they often overlap.
There is an emotional crash after the holiday season. December is full of rituals, social warmth (even if it can be exhausting), visual richness, and anticipation. January removes all of that overnight. There’s no collective excitement anymore. No countdown. No shared narrative. We’re back to routine, all on our own.
Despite beauty showing up countless times in the ordinary, it can feel harder to notice. Even if the cold doesn’t bother me much, the lack of daylight absolutely does. An 8:30 am sunrise is brutal. Leaving work in the dark. Grey, flat days with no visual contrast. My energy has dropped, my focus has become slippery at best, and my emotions feel heavier. Last week, I had to leave work because a migraine made me tear up uncontrollably. Who would have thought the Christmas twinkly lights weren’t just decoration, but emotional scaffolding?
January also comes with an unspoken demand. Be better. Be disciplined. Be productive. Rebrand yourself. No wonder we’re holding two opposing forces at once: ambition, plans, and desire for momentum - versus - exhaustion, slowness, and emotional imbalance. That tension, the pull of wanting to move forward while our nervous system is still in recovery mode, is truly exhausting. It’s no surprise lethargy creeps in.
how can we combat it?
Sadly, I have no answer for you, only a few pointers that help me.
Name it. There is a quiet power in saying things out loud. This isn’t laziness, it’s January.
Be gentle. Take one day at a time. If natural light is scarce, supplement it emotionally. No overhead lights are welcome in my flat. Warm lamps and candles are my daily companions. I step outside for a short walk at lunchtime to feel the air and the sun on my skin. I sit by a window whenever I can.
Collect inspiration. I’ve read a lot this January. Whether it was to learn, find inspiration, seek hope, or feel giddy. The world is bleak. Unfortunately, I’m not talking about the weather. Every day, turning on the news leads to another heartbreak. And while I’m staying informed, I can’t deal with short-form content at the moment. Reading has been my coping mechanism when everything feels too heavy. I’ve also been to the cinema a few times. I always find it fascinating that, as a collective, we gather in a dark room to watch a movie together, to feel, to live through what we see on screen. Journaling has been my solace. It’s been great to release my thoughts, find peace, and organise my ideas. I’ve been planning more than doing. Thinking about the months ahead, what I want to do, and where I want to go.
January doesn’t need reinvention. Instead, it can be a planning month, a trial month, or a noticing month. Looking up at the sky on my way to work, searching for the moon that grounds me. Spotting a few snowdrops in a patch of grass during my lunchtime walk. Hearing the birds chirping away at 4 pm, announcing that the night may be on its way, but that they have also returned.
January isn’t asking us to shine. It’s asking us for patience. To move slowly through dim days, to want things without rushing towards them, to sit with both ambition and fatigue without forcing a resolution. Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I hope you are being kind to yourself and to others as much as you can.
Each month, I like to take a moment to reflect and share a few of my favourites. Below, I’ve rounded up my picks in the following categories:
Keepsakes – Moments to hold onto
Media Stack – Digital detours that held my attention
Music Interlude – Songs I kept listening to
Objects of Affection – Small things that brought joy
Bookmarks – Books I flipped through
KEEPSAKES
january flurries
Edinburgh’s first snow arrived on the 4th of January. It was short-lived, but still magical to suddenly turn my head towards the window and watch a cascade of flurries. Isn’t it funny how snow turns us into kids again?
kitchen experiment
I love cooking, and I’m partial to baking. It often turns into a mess that I unfortunately have to clean, and having flour everywhere in the kitchen is a nightmare. But there are a few things I’d like to try making this year. I cooked sweet bean paste from scratch (delicious with butter on toast). I also made two batches of madeleines. I’m still testing the recipe. It’s not quite there yet, but it’s been fun trying new things. Once I’ve nailed it, maybe I could add sweet bean paste to my madeleines? I’ll report back!
artist dates
Last December, I found the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron for £8 in a charity shop. I took it as an omen and brought it home. I’m entering week five. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. Some exercises and bits of lingo go over my head, but it has also reunited me with artist dates and encouraged me to experiment more with them.
They can be anything, like perusing the shelves of a secondhand bookshop you haven’t been to in ages. My favourite date so far was stopping at a café to draw. Nothing fancy, just my sweet treat, a cup of coffee, and whatever was around me. I hadn’t drawn in maybe fifteen years. Afterwards, I went to the cinema.
care package & postcard from abroad
I got another care package, this time from Belgium. Chocolate bars, hojicha powder, and a hand-knitted Sophie Hood. A winning trio to fight the winter blues. Eilin🧚🏼♀️ from The Soft Rebellion also sent me the most gorgeous postcard featuring a picture she took of the Mexican moon. Here’s to more snail mail in 2026 <3
MEDIA STACK
everyone is going analogue and people are going mad
The discourse around the desire for a more analogue life is making me cringe. There have been many articles and posts published about it lately. Others are responding by pointing out how absurd it all is, because the message is shared on social media, and social media is the antithesis of analogue.
What makes me laugh is that people want more analogue time, not to live entirely analogue. Isn’t it a good thing that, as a collective, we feel a bit tired of technology and want to explore other hobbies? Isn’t it a good thing that people are sharing their thoughts, ideas, and journeys to inspire others to pick up a non-tech hobby?
There is no way of cutting technology out of our lives. Everything is at our fingertips thanks to our precious little mobile phones. But life can be nuanced. This isn’t a nostalgia thing. Some generations haven’t experienced a world without the internet or social media, and yet still crave more analogue time, more community, more presence. It feels like a collective awakening. Whether someone wants to announce it on social media or not, I think it should be encouraged rather than criticised. It’s an interesting topic. Analogue is not all or nothing. This is about balance, not purity, and I found the pieces below truly inspiring.
i don’t want to catch up with my friends
What’s up? What’s new with you? How are things? How is everything on your side? We’re all guilty of using, or rather overusing, these sentences. Friendships, even long-standing ones, have slowly devolved into catch-ups that focus on surface-level updates rather than deeper, emotional, or intellectual conversations.
christina li put into words a thought that had been lingering in my head for a while. It saddens me that in busy adult lives, we often lack the mental energy to engage in deeper conversations. And while those catch-ups are always lovely, they can sometimes stay on the surface, like a routine rather than a true point of connection.
Where are the craft nights? Bringing your pillow to a friend’s flat to watch a movie? Talking about everything and nothing. There are some friends I see every three months or so, and with whom we simply update each other. When time is up, we hug and promise not to let it be so long before we meet again. Is that friendship? Is friendship losing its meaning? And is making new friends worth it?
I don’t have answers to these questions. They’re simply thoughts that have been circling in my head. I know time is scarce, life is busy, and work is tiring. But spending time with friends, truly spending time together, has made me deeply happy. I want to make more effort to nurture these moments by asking for more. It doesn’t need to be more frequent, but it can be more meaningful if we give it a little more care.
becoming a film bro
I may be exaggerating here, although I have been to the cinema three times in the last five weeks, which feels telling enough. I’m seriously contemplating getting a membership at my local cinema. Why are all the good films always released in January and February, only for the rest of the year to feel dry or filled with blockbusters?
Anyway, I’m about as eloquent a film reviewer as I am a book reviewer, so you’ll excuse me if what follows doesn’t offer much to chew on.
Sentimental Value (dir. Joachim Trier, 2025)
Sentimental Value is a Norwegian drama about two sisters, Nora and Agnes, who, after their mother’s death, must deal with their estranged, egotistical director father, Gustav, who returns to make a film about their lives. The opening shot is a house, the house where the sisters grew up, filled with quirks, sounds, and memories, both good and bad.
I loved that the story was built around the house, with the camera lingering, zooming in on details, and capturing the sounds it makes. I found this film deeply moving. It blurred the lines between art and life, and the depiction of depression felt uncomfortably accurate, yet validating. I think many people will recognise themselves in this film. I certainly did. Nora and Agnes’ relationship was so precious that it made me miss my sister, not because we share that closeness, but because we don’t. We are twelve years apart, and that distance sometimes aches. I also loved that the film was mostly in Norwegian. It demanded my full attention and pulled me in even more. It will be hard to top such a beautiful film.
No Other Choice (dir. Park Chan-wook, 2025)
No Other Choice is a dark Korean thriller about a father and family man, Yoo Man-soo, who loses his job and, with it, his grip on reality. Back on the job market, he decides to take matters into his own hands and eliminate the competition.
This one didn’t make me cry like the previous film. While our protagonist is intelligent, he is no killer, and some moments veer into very dark humour. As a whole, though, it was deeply disturbing. I often wished I could fast-forward through certain scenes. The film is a satirical look at desperation, midlife crisis, and the loss of professional identity. Did I enjoy it? I’m not sure that’s the right word. It’s a Park Chan-wook film after all. Disturbing, yes, but undeniably well made, and one that will linger with me for a while.
Sorry, Baby (dir. Eva Victor, 2025)
Sorry, Baby is a tender film about a woman's struggle to make sense of life after a terrible event has occurred. How do you navigate life after sexual assault? When are you supposed to move on, and will you ever really move on? This film felt raw and painfully real. Agnes and Lydie’s friendship was everything.
MUSIC INTERLUDE
OBJECTS OF AFFECTION
Shinnippon Moomin 2026 Daily Calendar
If there is one thing I look forward to every day, it is the simple pleasure of tearing off a page of my daily calendar. I missed out on the Moomin Daily Calendar in 2025, so I made it a priority to get it in 2026. Every day reveals a new Moomin illustration, in a beautiful forest green, which happens to be my favourite colour. It’s the little things, I tell ya!
soft pyjamas
This winter, I treated myself to new pyjamas. Pyjamas to sleep in, but also to linger in. Because there are days when waking up, taking a shower, and putting on a fresh pair of pyjamas is all you need.
comforting hojicha powder
Last December, when I was back in Belgium, I stopped by 65tea&co in Antwerp and picked up some hojicha powder on a whim. Reading after work with my cup of hojicha latte has become a true comfort, a way to fully switch off after the day and warm my body and soul.
BOOKMARKS
“When I’m feeling a little down, or when I’m trying to understand something, whether it’s about the bigger world out there, everyday life, about myself, or you, I turn to my shelves. Books may not give me answers, but they nudge me towards the right direction. I keep their words close to my heart. Knowing that I’m not navigating life alone makes me feel a little more courageous, a little less unsure.”
This quote comes from the introduction of Every Day I Read: 53 Ways to Get Closer to Books by Hwang Bo-Reum. This January felt long and heavy; the blues settled in deeply, whether it was the lack of light or the world crumbling around us. Books held a special place for me this month. They gave me a way to cope. So I’ve read a lot.
Here’s a list of all the books I finished in January:
Disappoint Me by Nicola Dinan (contemporary/queer)
Lost Souls Meet Under a Full Moon by Mizuki Tsujimura (magic realism)
The Book of Hope by Jane Goodall & Doug Abrams (nature)
The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter (short stories/horror)
The Idea of an Entire Life by Billy-Ray Belcourt (poetry)
I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki by Baek Se-hee (memoir)
Heated Rivalry by Rachel Reid (romance/queer)
Every Day I Read: 53 Ways to Get Closer to Books by Hwang Bo-Reum (essays about books)
Jean-Michel Basquiat: The Making of an Icon by Doug Woodham (art/history)
Brutal Scotland by Simon Phipps (photography/architecture)
You can read my full reading notes here:
This month felt slow, heavy, and a little foggy, but it also reminded me that small things still matter. Snow flurries, shared meals, long walks, films that linger, books that keep me company. I’m moving forward gently, planning more than doing, and trusting that energy will return in its own time.
As February approaches, I’m looking forward to a little more light, more noticing, and continuing to make space for the things that feel nourishing rather than urgent.
What did January look like for you? Was there anything that brought you comfort this month?
Until next time,
Amandine
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gosh, it's so true! i reflected on the depths of what winter can do to us a little last month too, but the polarity between the lethargy the month brings and the expectation-come-anticipation that follows a new year can be so crushing, can't it? thank you for sharing this with us, amandine <3
I didnt know there was a name for this feeling. January Blues. Now I know. and the whole friendship thing has been on my mind recently too. Like a lottt. Thank you for sharing :)