Never Not Amazed: January, blah, blah, blah

I have nothing to say.

Nothing. My brain is blank.

Because January.

The month that brings up conversations about how you closed out one year and your plan for the next is loaded. Possibilities — and expectations — to be a better version of ourselves abound.

That’s a lot of pressure placed on an arbitrary start for the year. Ancient Romans celebrated Janus, the God of doorways and beginnings. The Romans set the calendar and Janus gave the month its name. But January’s just a point on a circle, so the “new year” could start anywhere on that ring. Why not innovate? I nominate May for the new year marker. There’s more sun and even if it’s still snowing in Maine, the grass is greening up, the first flowers are popping.

I don’t mean to be critical of Janus and in fact, I’m a fan. Who doesn’t love open doors and possibility? And since I know how doors work, I believe even a closed door is worth investigating. You never know what might happen when you give the doorknob a jiggle.

My problem is I’m not ready for a big beginning and I’m also a believer in hibernating.

Because January.

January skies are gray and heavy. The wind whips around the house and Jack Frost nips at my nose in an unfriendly, not-song-worthy way.

I still feel the pain in the air from the murder spree in Lewiston. Our collective grief weighs on my shoulders. In winter months and particularly January, full of drab, overblown pressure, curling up under a fuzzy blanket and nothing on the agenda sounds great.

Overly peppy people make me want to show them how the door works so they can leave.

But what those people seem to know, and one of the many reasons I’m lucky to have them in my life, is action is a balm for the soul. Even small steps can change our outlook and help us feel powerful, useful and accomplished.

If Sens. King and Collins would write back to me, I’m sure we’d all become best friends. (“Pen pals” doesn’t describe the deep connection and gravitas of our relationship, and I’d like to avoid the “stalker” moniker). I’ve written to them and will write again. I suggest you do too. It feels good to be constructive with my anger and go directly to the people who are supposed to help.

I know counteracting the blahs takes more than a letter-writing campaign. It requires a multi-pronged approach including movement and thought.

A friend told me that when she gets the blahs, she rearranges furniture. We don’t have enough furniture to move around with any satisfaction, so I’m focusing on the spirit of her example. She inspired me to think about organizing our bedroom closet. (At this point in reading this column, my partner is cautiously optimistic. There’s a pile of clothes on the closet floor that’s morphed and multiplied. In the dark, it looks like it’s breathing.)

Unfortunately for him, just thinking about acting is lifting my spirits.

Movement — I need to get on it. I know a walk will get my blood going and it’s healthy to be in nature, no matter how blah the sky is. But the wind’s blowing so hard, I might not make much forward progress. I could throw my shoulder into it, pretend the wind and road are my personal giant outdoor treadmill, and delight in the idea of getting all my steps in and never leaving my driveway. I really could.

I know I’ll feel better if I do it. My mind will perk up and creative inspiration will hit. Cold is supposed to be good for us, right?

I also know, sometimes it’s OK and even better to do nothing. 

Sometimes, when life hands you lemons or you just have a sour taste in your mouth, you can admit you don’t want to make lemonade or lemon cake or salad dressing. Maybe you don’t want to cook at all. It’s OK to know it and say it out loud.

I need to add another prong to the spirit-lifting strategy. Coping with life’s hidden and shocking obstacles takes mental toughness and a lot of brainpower. So just the right amount of rest needs to be a strategic prong. Get enough rest so you can enjoy a good TV movie or the view out your window. Don’t get so much that the mire of ennui grabs at your legs and pins you down. 

And when you’re going for downtime, invite that peppy friend to join you. They probably need a mental break and, like a lot of us, don’t know how to ask for it. And you’ll need them when it’s time to open that door and take a walk.

Erin O’Mara lives in Harpswell and serves on the Harpswell News Board of Directors.