Here we are. One full month of 2026 in the books.

I don’t know about you, but January felt both fast and endless. Like we were holding our breath while still being asked to keep moving. That’s a strange way to begin a year.

So I want to pause for a moment and ask a real question, not a performative one: how are you doing, actually?

Not the polite answer. Not the brave answer. The honest one you give yourself when no one is grading your resilience.

A month into a new year often comes with a quiet reckoning. The calendars are still clean enough to suggest possibility, but the world hasn’t suddenly softened. The old problems didn’t politely stay behind in December. If anything, they followed us in, sat down, and asked to be fed.

There is a particular pressure right now to be “handling it.” To be informed but not overwhelmed. Engaged but not consumed. Hopeful but not naïve. That’s a narrow path to walk, and it can leave even the most grounded among us feeling off-balance.

History reminds us that times of social and political strain rarely announce themselves as such in the moment. They show up as fatigue. As irritability. As a dull ache of concern we can’t quite name. People living through consequential eras rarely felt heroic. Most felt tired and uncertain, wondering if they were doing enough or too much.

If you’re feeling that way, it doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re paying attention.

One of the quiet lies we’re sold is that endurance should look like constant forward motion. That if we pause, reflect, or admit weariness, we’re somehow letting something slide. In truth, reflection is not retreat. It’s maintenance. It’s how we stay human in systems that benefit from our numbness.

So this is your permission slip, if you need one, to check in without judgment. To notice where you’re braced and where you’re depleted. To acknowledge what you’ve carried through this first month and what you may need to set down, even temporarily.

Mindful activism is not about being perpetually on fire. It’s about staying awake without burning out. It’s about choosing steadiness over spectacle, depth over volume. It asks us to remain in relationship with ourselves as much as with the world around us.

If January left you hopeful, hold onto that. If it left you tired, honor that too. Both can be true. The work ahead does not require perfection. It requires presence.

As we move into the next stretch of this year, may we remember that checking in is not self-indulgence. It is strategy. It is how we ensure that our convictions remain rooted in care rather than reaction.

However you’re doing today, you’re allowed to be honest about it. That honesty is where clarity begins.

Mindful activism asks us to stay awake without becoming hardened, to tell the truth without losing our humanity, and to remember that how we show up matters just as much as what we oppose. Thank you for being here and for walking this path with me.

Julie Bolejack, MBA

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