When You Drift in January (Because You Will)
January in London has a very particular feel.
The Christmas lights are still clinging on along the high street, but they look a bit worn now. The radio has returned to serious voices talking about habits, health and fresh starts. Somewhere between the weather forecast and a discussion about productivity, there is the suggestion that this is the moment to pull yourself together.
You step outside, coat zipped up, and walk past Tesco or wait for a bus that is already full of people staring quietly into the middle distance. It is grey. It is cold. And for many people, motivation is noticeably absent.
By the second or third week of January, a familiar experience often shows up. Drift. Whatever intentions were made at the start of the year now feel distant. Old habits have crept back in. Energy has dipped. The inner commentary usually follows close behind. I should be doing better than this. Other people seem to have started properly.
From an Acceptance and Commitment Therapy perspective, none of this is surprising. January is not a psychological fresh start. It is still winter. Low light, tired nervous systems and bodies that have not yet recovered from December’s demands. Drifting at this time of year is not a failure of motivation or willpower. It is a very human response to context.
This is where values become far more helpful than goals.
ACT research shows that wellbeing improves not when people finally feel motivated or symptom free, but when they take small actions aligned with what matters to them, even while feeling low, anxious or tired. Values-based action supports mental health precisely because it does not depend on feeling good first.
In other words, you do not need to fix January in order to live meaningfully in it.
Goals tend to turn January drift into evidence. Evidence that you are undisciplined or doing it wrong. Values do something quieter and more useful. They simply ask, given where I am right now, how might I take one small step in a direction that matters?
A compass does not criticise you for missing a turn. It just keeps pointing.
Self-compassion is essential here because drifting in January often comes with shame. And shame is remarkably effective at keeping people stuck. If noticing a wobble leads straight to self-criticism, the nervous system quickly learns that awareness is risky. So we either push ourselves harder or quietly give up.
Research into self-compassion shows that people are more likely to re-engage with change after a setback when they respond with understanding rather than criticism. Shame does not motivate sustainable behaviour change. It tends to shut it down.
Self-compassion sounds more like this. Of course this feels hard right now. It is January. What would be a kind and meaningful next step?
Pacing matters too. The return to values does not require a dramatic reset or a bold declaration. No fresh start. No overhaul. Just something small and doable. One honest conversation. One boundary. One moment of care for yourself or someone else.
In January especially, drifting is not the opposite of psychological wellbeing. It is part of it. Values are what allow you to gently re-orient when you notice you have wandered off course.
If the start of this year feels slower or heavier than you expected, you are not failing. You are responding to the conditions you are in. Therapy can be a place to slow things down, make sense of what matters, and find a steadier way forward. Sometimes the most important thing in January is not pushing ahead, but turning slightly and beginning again, at walking pace.