We start our resolutions in January, when the supposed start of the new year begins. It seems appropriate to do so: a new year, a new life.
Many folks opt for a “dry January” where they abstain from alcohol. It’s another one of those things that makes sense when you consider how the end of the year is all about feasts and festivals. We gather together on Thanksgiving to gorge ourselves. And then, a few weeks later, there’s Christmas with the flowing eggnog. Somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s, many drink as much alcohol in the cabinets as they can. Some drink as if the world is about to end (and they’re not entirely wrong — end of one year, start of another). It’s no wonder folks want to take a break from the beverage.
Others resolve to work out more this year, and they swear they will, trust them. But, sure enough, by mid-January, those weights grow cobwebs. Personally, I gave up on resolutions in favor of what I call “January Tests,” where I spend all of January doing one thing differently. Usually, it’s something healthy. This year I gave up caffeine. It was the toughest month because of it. But I noticed my anger levels lowered and my sleep schedule normalized. I may wake up early, but not quite refreshed. I spend the entire day in a haze and want to take so many naps. Maybe I’m too tired to be passionate and that’s why my anger levels are so low.
Inevitably, I look forward to February every year because it means that I can return to my natural self, my true primitive goblin form. But I have never looked up what February truly means. I always just saw it as the second month of the year, and the shortest.
In Roman times, neither January or February were observed. It was simply “those winter months” that folks bore through. But when they did observe these two months, they named them after two major observances. January was for Janus, the god of passageways and doors, which is appropriate. February, on the other hand, was named after the ritual of Februa, or purification. The festival of Februa occurred on February 15th, around what we now call Valentine’s Day, and consisted of various purification rituals and offerings. A man clad in goat skin would strike women who wished to conceive, a barbaric-sounding practice. It reminds me more of those “birthday punches” that friends would deliver in school (with one to grow on).
The Romans aren’t the only ones to see February as a welcoming of a new world. The ancient Irish celebrated (and today’s Irish still celebrate) the top of February as the festival of Imbolc. Catholics celebrate it as St. Brigid’s Day, Brigid being the old goddess of pagan Ireland. Brigid represented both spring and the arts, with many revivalists calling her “patroness of poets.” The saint named after her is seen as the “Mary of Ireland,” even more so as one of the three patron saints of Ireland (after Patrick and Columba). Some debate her historicity, but all agree that both the saint and the deity represent the same thing: a new life and an awakening of the new world.
One important ritual attributed to St. Brigid’s Day (February 1st) is the hanging of Brigid’s crosses. They symbolize the protection of the saint and welcome a new, clean year. A fresh start. These reed-weaved crosses resemble Native American dream catchers, Latin American Ojos de Dios, and other Indigenous charms. Just like those charms, these crosses are meant to be hung over doorways or beds to work properly.
I know it seems like my ADHD is acting up, but these associations are going somewhere. I’m sure that the more research I do, the more cultures I examine, I’ll find the same thesis: February represents new life, change. We always celebrate January as the start of a new year, but maybe it’s the habits we stick with until February that actually define who we will be each new year.
One of my previous “January tests” had been giving up soda all of that month. And, sure enough, I cannot drink soda as much as I used to. I find myself craving water much more. For some who celebrate a “dry January,” I’ll bet many end up drinking less or staying sober the rest of the year. I’ll bet that those who stick with their exercises, though they may lose that fervor, start going on more walks or doing more push-ups.
I’m not saying it’s useless to try to change. But maybe my conclusion is that real change takes time and growth — and, perhaps, the willpower to get slapped by a goat-man. Whatever you choose to do, spend February collecting yourself and finally getting rid of the previous year’s dribs and drabs.
You had a whole month to prepare.
William Smythe is a local writer and poet. He writes for Focus Mid-South, an LGBT+ magazine.
