The Reign of Janus

By the end of January, 36% of all New Year’s resolutions are in the dumpster.

Let’s assume we made resolutions.  Let’s assume we have already broken our resolutions.  Who can we blame for our high expectations and our dramatic failures? 

Janus is to blame.  Yes, Janus.   An unfamiliar, yet annually appearing figure.  Janus is that two headed God of Roman Mythology.  He presided over the beginning and ending of conflict; of war and peace.   He opened the gates, and he closed the gates in Rome.

Is it any wonder that just when we aspire to conquer our human shortcomings with new year resolutions a two headed spoiler comes around and slams the gates just after we begin?

Two headed indeed!  It is not just resolution zapping that gives January’s namesake pleasure.  It is the whole month of contradictions.  Here in the north our weather changes as often as twice a day; sun in the morning, a blizzard by mid-day.  Both work and social plans are scuttled regularly by bad roads.  More people file for divorce in January than any other month.  I get that.  There is no harmony in January. 

This dichotomy is nothing short of depressing, even for an optimist.  Perhaps not planning is the best plan.  In January, it may be the safest option.    Why do we set ourselves up for failure and disappointment in a month that already has an agenda?   Seems like everyone tries to make January the month for self-improvement.   The local winery offers a January intuitive learning seminar. Why try?  Just drink the wine and skip the seminar.  I know that I am particularly intuitive after a one or two glasses of wine.

I was just thinking.  Maybe it would be best if we would just go with the flow of nature.  Like the trees in the woods, sinking our toes beneath the surface to the warmth, hanging on till better days, content to survive in a harsh environment.  Yet, the trees don’t quit living…….they just takes a rest.   I have a greeting card in my file.  Larry, the bear is standing at the edge of the lake.  The card is titled “Why Larry talked to the lake”.  It goes on “Why did he have to have a mission?  Wasn’t mere survival enough?  The lake listened quietly and thanked him for the visit.  Larry loved the lake.”  I’ve never sent the card.   I just read it from time to time. I love Larry and the lake.

For some with a daily to-do list, a plan for tasks to be done, vacations to take, and projects to tackle; taking a solitary, entire month of rest is at best very boring. At worst, it is depressing.  However, being still, reflective, and restful may be worth the risk.  One day at a time.  No Agenda.   No major goals at work, no dates with friends, no travel plans, and certainly no conversation with spouses.    

By the time this blog is posted, we will be nearing the end of the reign of Janus. February will be a more predictable month.  After all, it will be ushered in by Phil, the perennial, ageless predictor of six weeks of possibly improved weather (all be it, he’s a rodent).  In nature, February is the month of new beginnings. The Northern cardinal mates in February. Beneath the leaves and snow, mother bears are nuzzling their newborn cubs.  The Trumpeter swans arrive by flocks.  Granted, they are snow white—but, still a welcomed sight.  Under the layers of ice and snow, the rivers begin to rush.  February 14th will give us the opportunity to share love with other humans; some of whom we may have considered less than human in January.  We will be ready to leave our solitude.   Either we will have read too much, tired of puzzles, or have learned to navigate bad roads.  Indeed, February is the month that will usher in a new beginning.

Any ideas for resolutions?