January is Frozen
mindset for the month ahead
I sometimes feel bad for January. It’s a month of starvation. Winter, darkness, and cold. People all over the world swearing off gluttony in hopes of recreating themselves and their life.
But there’s a quiet strength in this month. The kind that doesn’t need recognition. The kind that can withstand the starvation of joy we so often subject it to. This post contains:
how we are preparing for the year ahead
how to cultivate growth in slowness (or frozen-ness)
three questions for the transition from 2024 to 2025
my word of the year
For us on the homestead, January is a time of preparation, transition, and quiet work that builds a foundation for the months ahead. This month, my intention is to embrace “wintering”.
In January, things are stirring beneath the surface. The days are ever so slightly longer, and if you pay attention, you can feel the vibrancy of life. This revelation came when my husband and I spent time at a wood-burning sauna for his birthday last month. The sauna was beside a pond that had a thick layer of ice over the top of it. As I plunged my burning feet into the ice, I quickly felt the ripple of water, and the sense of relief traveling up my body.
The same goes for our homestead. The seed packets stacked on my desk hold all the promise of the coming season, even though the soil is still too cold to welcome them.
But just because growth isn’t visible doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. That’s the lesson January teaches me every year.
I desire rest, but…
On paper, January looks manageable, even calm. There are no major harvests or garden tasks, and our calendar is clear of holidays or events. But January is anything but still. This month holds space for planning, dreaming, and tending to the small details that can so easily be overlooked in busier seasons. It requires a presence and appreciation for this quiet time, a time that I so often wish away and easily get ahead of myself.
This January, I’m leaning into patience and preparation, balancing that with the quiet but deliberate action that nurtures future growth. It’s about finding the rhythm between dreaming and doing.
One way I’m practicing this is through my holistic garden planning series that will launch on substack on January 19th. I’ll be sharing all of the important and more technical lessons I’ve learned over the years that help me grow a three-season garden that feeds my family throughout the year as well as the strategic and intentional practices that help me avoid burnout and have a lot of fun and vibrancy during the growing seasons.
The Slow Bloom of Self
For me, January is also an invitation to reflect inward. Guided by nature, the trees and plants are focused on their roots, so I am too. Am I holding onto last year’s chaos? (absolutely). Have I carried any unnecessary burdens into this new year? (um, yes). Am I cultivating the habits and energy I want to bring into spring? (!!!)
I’ve been paying attention to glimmers. Those little unexpected, everyday moments that put a smile on my face. One of my favorite things is when I get to the coffee pot before it’s done brewing and pour a cup of the strongest coffee. It’s a sign of how we coexist. My husband doesn’t like when I make coffee because I make it too strong, but I don’t like how he makes it too weak. I’ve realized I can let him make it his way and still enjoy a cup so strong my whole body has a small spasm upon the first sip when I steal a cup while it’s still brewing. I know how this sounds, but I like what I like.
As I sip this coffee, I think about the balance I want to cultivate this year. My focus is on intention over urgency, ensuring that the seeds I’m planting in my life align with the life I want to grow.
This quiet work—tending to the internal garden—is as vital as preparing for the literal one. It’s a way of ensuring that I bloom, too, when the time is right.
Practical Goals for the Homestead
January is a month for preparation. The work we do now doesn’t always look like work, but it’s essential. Here’s what’s on the agenda for the month:
Seed Starting: By the end of the month, the first seedlings will be under grow lights. Brassicas, early greens, and luffa will get their start indoors, a gentle reminder that spring isn’t so far away and that we need this time to allow for success later on.
Garden Mapping: This is when the garden comes to life on paper. I map out crop rotations, companion plantings, and succession schedules, ensuring the plan supports both our needs and the health of the soil. You can join me in the 21-day holistic garden planning series that starts on the 19th (for paid subs).
Dopamine Decor: I work in high-end residential construction as my day job and I’ve long ago let go of any realistic expectation of having a magazine home. Instead, I love color, bold patterns, and nothing matches. Oh, and I live on a farm with two young children in a 2 bedroom 1 bathroom house…So, instead, I’ve decided to do small things to the house with paint to make the place joyful. I recently painted flowers on a door jamb to my bedroom and plan to give the kitchen a light makeover with bright yellow cabinets, some peel and stick backsplash and a new butcher’s block countertop for a portion of it (this may not happen in January, but hoping it’s a project for this winter).
Dinosaur Skeletons: Okay, so maybe this has nothing to do with this month but I will have a 4 year-old this month and we’ve spent the last two years fully in our dinosaur era. She’s starting to come out of it slowly, but we made plans in the summer to visit the Field Museum in Chicago for her birthday to see the T-Rex skeleton, Sue.
Cultivating “Frozen”
As I move through this month, I’m trying to let go of the urge to rush. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking we need to "get ahead" or do more, but January isn’t about that. It’s about embracing the slow, steady work that sets the stage for what’s next.
Whether it’s sketching garden plans, tending to my own inner landscape, or simply sitting with a cup of strong a$$ coffee and allowing myself to dream, I’m reminding myself to savor this slower season.
Because, just like the seeds we’ll sow later this month, everything blooms in its own time.
Continue X Frozen
This year for my monthly mindset posts, I will be taking a moment to connect back to an overarching intention for the year as a whole. As I have been reflecting in my head on paper, talking with family and friends, I keep coming back to the word continue. It is not at all what I would have expected. For me, continue is a gentle reminder that I can trust my intuition. I have had a winding and circuitous path to realizing my purpose in life, and I am far from embodying it fully, yet I know how I want to spend my life. It is also a reminder that the opinions of others are welcome and can provide a much-needed perspective ( I easily get tunnel vision with my personal experiences), however, we do not need to change ourselves, our path, our actions, or our intentions based on the thoughts of others. I can continue.
This month it is a symbol of putting down the roots. I have a lot of lofty goals for this year in terms of making strides to better align my life and my values. We’re hoping to have a production garden and there’s a lot of work that needs to be done before we can plant (literal) seeds. I need to set a foundation for success. I need to create a business plan. I need to figure out how much it’s going to cost me. I need to come up with a phased plan for executing the infrastructure and installation of the new beds. While I may not be seeing any physical progress toward achieving this goal, I know that this month of frozen and feeling like we are paused is continuing the work that will lead to future growth.
January might not bring the vibrancy of spring or the abundance of summer, but it holds its own quiet beauty. It’s a month of possibility, of subtle shifts and steady progress. As I lean into this frozen abyss, I hope you’ll join me in finding joy in the quiet work of this season.
Here’s to the groundwork, the patience, and the promise of what’s to come.
I actually love this time of year, though around the end of February I’m ready for the sun and warmth. My word/intention this year is “focus.” And I think it will keep me on task and reduce distractions.
This piece was just terrific, Laura—I feel energized and inspired, not only for my homestead garden, but life in general!