Every January, I feel this…
The collective tightening.
The urgency.
The unspoken message that if you’re not reinventing yourself fast enough, you’re already behind.
Goes like this…
- Reset your body.
- Fix your habits.
- Optimise your nervous system.
- Become a better version of yourself — preferably by Monday. 😉
And every year, something in me quietly resists. (Ok not that quietly).
Not because change doesn’t matter.
But because this kind of change rarely lasts.
This January, that resistance has, for sure, been even stronger.
Partly because I’ve spent the few days I have off for my Christmas break, sick — a chest and throat infection forced me to slow right down again. And partly because I’ve been watching the wellness world gear itself up again, louder and more frantic than ever, selling urgency as transformation.
I’m done with that. I’m throwing my toys out of the pram. I don’t want to build from that place anymore. 😭
The problem with the January push
Here’s what I see, year after year.
People start January already exhausted.
Already behind.
Already feeling like they should be “doing better”.
And then we ask them to:
- commit harder
- try more
- overhaul everything
- push through resistance
We call it motivation.
But often, it’s just pressure wearing a prettier outfit. 🙄
For some people, that pressure lights a short-lived spark.
For most, it creates another cycle of effort → collapse → self-blame.
That’s not transformation.
It’s churn.
What I actually believe creates change
After years of teaching, practicing, and walking alongside people through real life — grief, menopause, burnout, identity shifts, caregiving, change — I’ve come to trust something quieter.
Change happens through rhythm, not intensity.
Through repetition, not reinvention.
Through staying in relationship when the novelty wears off.
And that kind of change doesn’t need January hype.
It needs time, steadiness, and a container that doesn’t demand performance.
Why I’m choosing not to push right now
I’m in the middle of birthing something new — FireWoven — a practice community designed to hold people over time, not whip them into shape for a season.
It would be easy to dress it up as a New Year reset.
To push harder.
To perform certainty and momentum on cue.
But that wouldn’t be honest.
What this work needs — and what the people it’s for need — is a steady beginning, not a loud one.
January, for me, is about:
- arriving rather than proving
- re-establishing rhythm rather than chasing motivation
- letting things settle before asking for more
That’s not stalling.
It’s sequencing.
This isn’t about doing less forever
Opting out of the January push isn’t about apathy.
It’s about right timing.
There will be moments for fire. 🔥
For commitment.
For stepping forward and being challenged.
But fire without ground burns people out.
And I’m no longer interested in teaching that way — or living that way.
If this resonates
If reading this brings relief rather than excitement…
If you’re tired of starting over every January…
If you’re craving depth, rhythm, and something that actually stands up to real life…
You’re not broken.
You’re not unmotivated.
You’re just done with being pushed.
And that, I’ve learned, is often the beginning of something far more sustainable.
This year, I’m choosing to build slowly.
To teach from integrity.
And to trust that the right people don’t need to be rushed.
We’re not behind.
We’re just opting out of the noise.
— Josie Steedman
If what I’ve shared here resonates, I’m currently building something new called FireWoven — a practice community designed to support steadiness through change, without hype or pressure.
You can register your interest here if you’d like to be quietly notified when the next phase opens: