Why January Feels Like the Worst Time to Start Over

Every January we’re told it’s time for reinvention. New habits. New goals. New discipline. And yet, for many people, January feels like wading uphill through cold mud rather than stepping into fresh momentum. That isn’t a personal failure—it may be a calendar problem.

The modern 12-month calendar places the “new year” in the dead of winter, a season that biologically favors rest, conservation, and inward focus. Human physiology evolved long before electric lighting, climate control, and desk jobs. For most of human history, winter meant fewer calories, shorter days, slower movement, and communal survival. Our nervous systems still remember that.

Circadian rhythms (daily sleep–wake cycles) and circannual rhythms (seasonal biological patterns) are influenced by light exposure, temperature, food availability, and activity levels. In winter, melatonin production increases, energy naturally dips, and the body prioritizes maintenance over expansion. Expecting peak motivation, aggressive goal-setting, and radical lifestyle change in January runs counter to how the human organism actually functions.

This mismatch may help explain why New Year’s resolutions so often collapse. We are attempting to force “spring behavior” onto winter biology.

Interestingly, this wasn’t always the case.

Historically, many cultures marked the new year in spring, not winter. In ancient Rome, the year originally began in March (named for Mars, the god of action and movement). Agricultural societies aligned their calendars with planting seasons, daylight returning, and renewed activity in the natural world. Starting the year as life re-emerged made intuitive sense.

One alternative system often discussed today is the 13-month calendar. While versions vary, the basic structure divides the year into thirteen equal months of 28 days (exactly four weeks each), totaling 364 days, with one “year day” added outside the weekly cycle to realign the solar year. Some models place the new year in March or April, closely following the spring equinox. This approach emphasizes symmetry, predictability, and alignment with lunar cycles—each month corresponding neatly to four full weeks.

While the 13-month calendar is not without its critics and complications, its appeal lies in something simple: it respects rhythm. It acknowledges that human beings are not machines operating independently of the natural world.

From a health perspective, this invites a quieter, more traditional way of thinking about change. Winter may be better suited for reflection, rest, assessment, and repair. Spring naturally supports initiation. Summer favors growth and output. Autumn encourages consolidation and harvest. This seasonal approach mirrors both biology and long-standing cultural wisdom.

Rather than fighting January, there may be value in treating it as a midpoint—a time to observe, simplify, and prepare. Real momentum often comes later, when light returns and the body is ready to move forward again.

Progress doesn’t require louder willpower. Sometimes it requires better timing.