If January were a paper product it would be legal sized. February would be a memo and all ensuing months just normal, ordinary letter size.

But January is elongated. Resolutions have been made, tested, and perhaps sanely, discarded. Seasonal decorations are snugly back in their containers, recessed into closet depths.

Bills are paid, thank-you notes are up to date. A pound or two has been dutifully worked off. The sparkly party tops are back from the cleaners. Life has become less frantic, more doable.

Even so, the month is ponderous. Long days of snowy silence, frigid nights of inky blackness. A blank slate awaiting daily living to fill the next year’s empty blocks of time.

January is actually a bridge – it expands from hectic holidays at the end of one year to the heady anticipation of spring in the new year’s arrival.

This is the month of seed catalogs and cruise wear sales. Of articles on how to effortlessly lose five pounds and listings of comforting casseroles peeking side by side from the same glossy magazine.

In January all things are possible. The check book will balance, the current hot read of the book club will be finished, the pictures on top of the piano will be re-arranged and updated.

Time will be actualized. Chores accomplished. Dreams spun. Coffee breaks shared and enjoyed without the encumbrance of guilt.

The vanguard of change begins this month.

Will a year be enough to sustain our intentions?

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