28/01/2026
I went to do one small thing.
Just one.
Put a cup in the sink.
Tidy a corner.
Be a proper grown-up for about three minutes.
I turned around…
and suddenly I could see everything.
The mess.
The piles.
The things half-finished, put off, and apparently waiting for the exact moment I decided I’d “just do one job.”
It feels like it all appears at once.. but it hasn’t.
What’s changed is what I can see.
Imbolc isn’t here yet,
but it’s close enough to be felt.
We’re in that odd in-between bit
where winter still has hold of us,
but something underneath is starting to stir, stretch, and wake up.
And in winter, we do tend to hoard.
Not in a dramatic way... just instinctively.
Less light. Less energy. More hibernation.
We keep things close.
We put things down instead of away.
We tell ourselves we’ll deal with it later.
Which, to be fair, is kind of the point of winter.
That hoarding shows up everywhere.
In our homes.
In our inboxes.
In the piles we step around so often they become part of the furniture.
I looked at the chair in the corner.
It wasn’t just a chair anymore..
it had become a clotheshorse for three different jumpers and a scarf.
During hibernation, that pile felt like a cosy nest.
Now, in this new, slightly unforgiving light,
it just felt like weight.
Then the light starts creeping back.
Day by day, our energy lifts a little.
Our brains wake up a bit more.
And suddenly what we tolerated through hibernation
feels louder, heavier, harder to ignore.
That corner you were fine with all winter
now feels like it’s staring at you.
Unfinished things start tapping you on the shoulder.
The house develops opinions.
I felt that familiar spike of guilt.. the Grown-Up Alarm telling me I was behind
(and loudly judging me while it did).
But then I remembered the seeds.
Out there, under frozen dirt,
nothing is rushing to flower.
The seeds aren’t late.
They aren’t failing.
They’re just waking up,
stretching a little,
remembering who they are.
This isn’t you being lazy.
It isn’t you failing or falling behind.
It’s instinct.
As Imbolc approaches, this is what happens.
Our ancestors knew this time wasn’t about perfection... it was about preparing.
Checking stores.
Mending what had worn thin.
Making a little space for what was coming.
Not all at once.
Just enough.
So if one small job suddenly shows you ten more,
it doesn’t mean you need to do them all.
It means something in you is waking up.
And instead of feeling overwhelmed,
pause.. and smile.
The light is starting to come back.
Little by little.
And with it, the quiet reminder
that energy, clarity, and warmth
are finding their way back too.
Jen x💕
