What do you want?

January needs a publicist.

If we can accuse any month of wrongdoing, we can definitely accuse this month of false advertising. January starts off with a bang and music and dancing and millions of champagne-fueled resolutions being uttered while the chanting of your good-intentioned friends occurs in the background. Excitement? Yes! Promise? Yes! New-found energy? Yes, yes, yes!

And then nothing.

Wait. Maybe not nothing. There is something that comes next. Snow. Ice. The sound of the plow as it rounds the neighborhood once again. Temperatures that make you think twice before heading out. And a blanket of white outside my window, seemingly for good.

In short, boredom.

January is not as sexy as February. Not as inebriated as March. (You think New Year's is big? St. Patrick's Day, my friends: the Irish have the uncanny ability to stretch that one day into a veritable week). It's not as light and airy as April and May. Not as hot and vacation-filled as June through August. Not as back-to-brass-tacks as September and October. And not as fun and party-filled and laidback as November and December.

In short, January is a bit of a void. Low on moxie and lacking any sort of street cred, this month is just, well...there.

Case in point, so far this month I have gotten more sleep than in the past couple of months combined. (I'm quite happy lately so it's not some kind of reaction or stress-induced.) I crave bread and lots of it, imagining my own stockpile of it like a squirrel might imagine a cache of acorns and nuts. One of my latest rituals is changing into my pajamas earlier in the evening just so I can lounge in my living room with a few candles lit and watch some TV. And as I sit there, in the dim light, noshing on bread and wrapped in more flannel and blankets than any one human should possess, I inevitably find myself questioning why, other than for the obvious reasons, humans can't hibernate, too. Because if I could at this point I probably would. (If I'm not already doing some version of this already)

January allows such behavior. It has no agenda. No formalities to adhere to. No specific expectations to fulfill.

And maybe it's meant to be that way. That is its Jedi (or January) mind trick. January is uneventful on purpose. Like the boring guest at a party that you have all but dismissed until they say something so dead-on and insightful that you're speechless, January's real purpose is to not be anything at all. And in that nothingness, to provide us all some space to move, time to think and opportunities to catch our breath and consider our next steps for the year ahead.

When it comes down to it, January is that insightful party guest who leans in and whispers, "What do you want to do this year?" and waits to hear the answer.

And maybe it is waiting to hear my answer.

I'm a fan of the The Buried Life on MTV. Their question is always, What do you want to do before you die? Perhaps the predecessor of that question is this: What do you even want in the first place?

This month is waiting for me (and for you, too) to take the lead and speak up. It's looking us dead in the eye and asking us to be honest with ourselves and those around us about what we hope to do/be/achieve/begin/complete this year.

A lot of people try to avoid answering this (myself included, at times) because after saying what you want out loud, you realize that after the "what"inevitably comes the "how". And therein lies the personal responsibility of making it (whatever it is) come true.

I have been thinking a lot about this. And I know that I want the following: to get paid to write, to go on a lot of dates and ultimately start a meaningful relationship and to keep working through my fears one-by-one until they are not as powerful as they once seemed. I also want to relax and enjoy myself a lot more. Nowhere near exhaustive, but still a good and honest and sincere inventory of what I want out of life and out of this year specifically.

I hope you are also able to answer this question yourself, honestly and thoughtfully, and be ok with your own response. I hope January is meaningful for you in this respect. And I hope the quiet of this month gives you the opportunity to listen to your own thoughts and not be afraid of where they might take you.