Hibernating in the cold

How January presented an opportunity to prepare, rather than a space to grow

If you are living in the UK or Ireland right now, you’re probably sick of the rain. My usual comfort of a grey day with the pattering of rain against my windows has now become a hateful grimace every time I look out my window. January has been dark, grey and gloomy. But it needed to be.

I’ve spoken about this so much I’m even sick of me saying it but things have been tough the last couple of weeks. January felt like the bad hangover of the hyper-productive 2025, lingering persistently behind the eyes and fogging up the brain, making rest difficult and activity nauseating. Ok, maybe that’s a bit extreme but there are days that I have felt like that.

I genuinely feel like I have gotten so much more done in January than I should have. I know it’s not just me that feels this way. Many of my friends that I speak to in Accepted and College are exhausted already. Whether its because of the weather, or just the sheer volume of information that has been thrown at us in January, I don’t know, but it has felt like a rope through water.

I wanted to use the dead of winter to rest under a blanket of cold, reading books by the fireside, drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate. But instead, I felt myself flung unceremoniously into a siege of deadlines! Annual finances for the business, tax returns, strategy and a push to restart the year with growth. I found solace in my research but even that has been clouded over with a looming deadline. All of a sudden I am trying to push through the frozen ground before it has had a chance to thaw.

I wanted my January to feel cosy, slow and restorative. I wanted to relish in the darkness and in the cold, lighting on what has worked and what feels right and letting anything that I resist slow disintegrate. In some cases, I have done this (although taxes will never disintegrate, unfortunately). I have spent a lot of time reflecting on the toxic productivity that shrouded my feelings of success. I have reflected on my ideas of content and what I want to put out in the world. I have seen my writing taking on its own voice. I am attempting to let go of the sense of seeking approval from others, and trusting in my own voice and intuition.

A good thing is that I took a much needed break from YouTube and content creation during January. In the silence I felt myself coming up with ideas. Some felt good, others didn’t. I have been trying to let go of what isn’t me anymore and hold on to what feels right, what feels like me. In those moments of silence I am seeing more of me. While January might not have been the restful, reflective space I wanted it to be, it has provided me with the space to starkly recognise the tensions in my life. Those ideas that felt incoherent with myself are being disregarded. People who make me feel bad about myself are being put at a distance.

And in many ways, I feel a profound connection to my brand ‘The Renaissance Academic’. The little quiet dormancy of winter I experienced was a poetic and grounded precursor to my ‘rebirth.’ Even though I still grimace every time I look out the window, and my inspiration feels dragged, I am reminded that spring growth is possible because of the deep, restorative work that happens during the winter rest.

In both nature and history, a renaissance doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It requires a period of stasis where energy is conserved rather than spent. Plants spend their time pulling their energy into their root systems, strengthening their core to survive the frost. The renaissance saw a similar experience, knowledge was preserved in monasteries and libraries, hidden away, waiting for the right moment. This resonates acutely for me. I have spent years putting down my roots, pulling energy where I need it and painfully breaking off parts that weren’t aligned. January hasn’t been the only time I have been in hibernation - it has been years of cultivating myself, my ideas and my voice. All of the hard work has meant that I am now at the moment where I can break through my previous life and assume my role as the Renaissance Academic.

All of this to say, if you are feeling tired now, I see you. I recognise the effort you put in during the last month while you should have been resting, recovering, preparing for the year. If you are still feeling stuck, tired, or dormant right now, you aren't failing to grow; you are likely in the root-strengthening phase. You are the seed under the snow, preparing for your own personal renaissance.