The February Funk & The Art of the Micro-Adventure

Why does February feel a lot heavier than January?

We all know January feels about 6 months long and Christmas feels like a lifetime ago but by February, the air feels a little sharper, the desk feels a little smaller, and the office walls seem to be closing in. Motivation hits an all-time low. Those "big" adventures we planned for 2026 feel like a distant memory or an out-of-reach dream.

My question this month, dear reader, is have we been sold a lie about what "adventure" actually is?

We’re taught that adventure requires a passport, a week off, and a grand gesture. But I believe adventure is a state of mind. It’s a choice to be curious exactly where you are.

To put that to the test, I decided to take a leap of faith into a "Micro-Adventure." It’s a small, intentional experience designed to create a new sensation and expand your point of view without needing a suitcase.

On a crisp Saturday morning, my husband and I headed to the park. Usually, at this time of year, I am a professional hibernator, squirrelled away under blankets, clinging to the radiators as if my life depended on it. But instead of hiding, we decided to pop out and try to ground ourselves using the 5-4-3-2-1 technique.

So, what actually happened when I put my phone on silent and walked into the trees?

At first, I felt the urge to rush, to just 'get the walk done' and get back to the warmth. But then, I forced myself to stop. I watched the trees waving gently in the breeze as if they were greeting us, and noticed tiny air bubbles dancing to the surface of the still pond.

Without the distraction of a screen, the world felt incredibly loud. I could hear a winter chorus of birds and the frantic scurry of squirrels in the undergrowth. I leaned into the comfort of Darren’s new coat as we looped arms. Even the air had a flavor, icy and crisp on my tongue, smelling of that sharp, clean winter frost and the familiar scent of my husband's fragrance. In those few minutes, the 'heavy' feeling of February simply evaporated.

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The "to-do" lists and the mountain of chores will always be there, waiting for us. It is up to us to switch the narrative.

We are so much more than the work we churn out or the errands we run. We are alive, and we deserve to feel that spark of excitement as often as possible. By leaning into a micro-adventure, you might just rediscover a part of yourself that got lost in the daily grind.

Your micro-adventure doesn’t have to be a forest walk. It could be taking that "unknown" turn on your drive home just to see where it leads. It could be picking a random spot on the map, driving there for a coffee, and coming straight back. It could be trying that quirky restaurant in the next village over.

The goal isn't the destination; it's the reminder that the world is still big, even when your office feels small.

What’s one tiny adventure you can give yourself permission to take this weekend? Let me know in the comments, I’d love to cheer you on.