By Kerry Williams
I’ve never felt that January 1st was the start of a new year. Maybe it’s because I was a dedicated student and orient to September as the annual time of change and transition. Or maybe it’s because I’ve always lived in a northern climate and celebrate New Year’s in the middle of the longest season of the year. Or maybe it’s because my birthday is in June, which means I myself turn a new page exactly halfway around the calendar from the day I hang it on the wall. Whatever the reason, I am not refreshed by the changing of the year. I don’t make resolutions because I feel no pull of a reset in my life. I don’t feel nostalgia nor a sense of possibility, sentiments I clearly see in those around me.
In fact, the past couple of years my main feeling in the month of January has been of burnout. The job that I’m currently in reinforces this sense of being stuck. I am in charge of bookkeeping in a nonprofit office that chooses to do a yearly audit. This means that the month of December I am churning out donation acknowledgments during the busy giving season, then roll straight into January wrapping up annual financials to set everything in order, only to then drop right back into the previous year to dig up all the random pieces of information needed for the accountants. It is overwhelmingly busy yet the work is circular.
I hear The Talking Heads singing “Road to Nowhere” on a loop in my head all month long. I spend the month of December tending to others’ needs, whether that’s getting a stranger a tax donation receipt or making sure that those I’m closest to receive meaningful holiday gifts, food, and memories, and the month of January cleaning up and prepping for others’ success at both work and at home. Emerging into February feels like a relief, though not a renewal. I am tired. I think the definition of burnout, at least to me, is knowing that you are depleted but not knowing how to fill your bucket back up. I keep asking myself, “What do I need?” and finding no clear answer. I might think peace and quiet would be good, but when I find myself alone in my cozy house I just walk around in circles, doing random chores instead of settling in and finding rest. I might think social engagement will cheer me up, but then I get stressed just trying to make plans to get together with others. All of this is to say that if you are in a cycle of your life that feels both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, you’re not alone.
I am grateful for the years I’ve spent on this planet (coming up on 50 now that it's 2023) that have given me the wisdom that “this too shall pass.” I know that it’s impossible to maintain a perfect “whelmed” state for very long, but I also know that I have the strength to get through this time. That and the fact that February brings lots of chocolate. It feels like my personal road to nowhere might end up having a destination after all in the very near future, and I’m thankful for all of you fellow travelers who make it enjoyable along the way, even when I’m driving in circles.