Wintering at the Cottage Maker’s Table: A Gentle January for Creative Living

 

January has a way of asking us to slow down—whether we planned to or not. As winter settles in and the holiday decorations begin to come down, the days feel quieter, the home feels different, and creativity often takes on a softer rhythm.

     After the glow of Christmas fades, there’s more white space, more stillness, and more room to notice what remains. For many years, I used to rush through this part of the season—eager to reset, reorganize, and move quickly into the new year with plans neatly outlined and goals firmly in place.

That rhythm served me for a long time, especially while raising children, running a busy in-home childcare, and managing a creative business where everything needed to be ready and precisely in order.

But this January feels different.

     Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about wintering—not as an absence of creativity, but as a quieter, more intentional way of living and making. Wintering, for me, is about honoring the slower pace of the season, allowing creativity to unfold gently, and creating space for meaningful living without pressure or urgency.

     This year, I’m not rushing into resolutions or forcing clarity before it’s ready. Instead, I’m sitting with a small collection of words, prayers, and intentions, letting them guide me as the month unfolds.

As I begin packing away Christmas in my home and studio, I’m noticing how much of wintering comes down to choice. What do I put away, and what do I let remain? What supports creative living throughout the year, and what no longer needs to take up space? I’m learning that wintering isn’t about clearing everything out—it’s about creating warmth, beauty, and breathing room while still living fully in the season.

My home has carried many seasons of life. For much of my adult life, it has been shaped around raising children and caring for others. As that season slowly shifts, I’m learning how to thoughtfully tend my spaces—both home and studio—in ways that feel calm, functional, and creatively inspiring.

         This is a work in progress, and I’m giving myself grace as I refine and reimagine how I live and create within these walls.

So today, I’m welcoming you to the Cottage Maker’s Table—a place for wintering gently in January. A place to slow down, create intentionally, and embrace meaningful making during the quiet rhythms of winter. This isn’t about perfection or keeping up. It’s about using what we have, creating with care, and allowing this season to shape us in thoughtful, lasting ways.

What Wintering Means Here

Wintering, for me, isn’t about stopping creativity—it’s about letting it change pace.

In this season, wintering means choosing to slow down without guilt. It means allowing creativity to become quieter, more intentional, and more deeply connected to daily living. Instead of rushing to reset everything in January, I’m learning to pause, observe, and decide thoughtfully what supports this season of life and making.

Here at the Cottage Maker’s Table, wintering looks like restraint rather than excess.

It’s choosing fewer projects, softer colors, and simpler rhythms. It’s working with what I already have instead of feeling the need to replace or reinvent everything all at once. Wintering invites me to create space—not empty space, but breathing room—where ideas can rest and gently take shape.

This approach carries into my home and studio alike. My home has long been a place of care, hospitality, and hard work, shaped by years of raising children and running a business within its walls. As that season slowly evolves, wintering gives me permission to tend my spaces differently—to refine, reorganize, and reimagine them in ways that feel calm, functional, and creatively inspiring.                                                                                                       Not all at once, and not perfectly, but thoughtfully and with intention.

In the studio, wintering means allowing creativity to remain visible without becoming overwhelming.

It’s finding ways to put things away while keeping them accessible. It’s organizing as I go, knowing systems may shift and change as I learn what truly supports my creative process.

     Wintering reminds me that a studio doesn’t need to look finished to be meaningful—it needs to be lived in.

At its heart, wintering is about alignment. Aligning creativity with the season outside my windows. Aligning my home with the season of life I’m in. And aligning my making with values that prioritize meaningful living over productivity. This slower, quieter rhythm allows creativity to feel supportive again—something that nurtures rather than demands.

January’s Creative Rhythms

January invites a different kind of creativity—one that feels slower, softer, and more intentional. Rather than jumping into big projects or packed schedules, this is the season where I’m leaning into gentle creative rhythms that support wintering and meaningful making.

For me, January creativity begins with paper crafting and journaling. There’s something grounding about working with paper during the winter months—the textures, the layers, the quiet repetition of cutting, gluing, writing, and arranging. It feels unhurried and reflective, perfectly suited to the slower pace of the season. Journaling becomes less about documenting everything and more about sitting with thoughts, prayers, and small observations as they unfold.

This month, I’m drawn to soft winter palettes—creams, warm whites, muted blues, gentle taupes, and faded florals that echo the winter landscape outside my windows. These colors feel calm and restorative, offering inspiration without overwhelm. They remind me that creativity doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful.

January is also a time for small projects, not big commitments. I’m intentionally choosing ideas that can be completed in short, satisfying sessions—projects that invite me back to the table without pressure. Wintering creativity thrives in these smaller moments, where the process matters more than the finished result.    

Another important rhythm this season is working with existing supplies. Instead of searching for what’s new, I’m rediscovering what I already have—papers tucked away, tools waiting to be used, materials that still hold creative potential. There’s a quiet joy in using what’s on hand, allowing creativity to emerge from familiarity rather than consumption.

Finally, January invites gentle experimentation. This isn’t the time for mastering everything or producing at full speed. It’s a season for trying, exploring, and learning without expectation. Wintering reminds me that creativity can simply be present—resting, evolving, and preparing for what’s next.

These rhythms shape how I create this month: slower, simpler, and more intentional. They allow creativity to support daily life rather than compete with it, making January a season of quiet growth at the Cottage Maker’s Table.

A Creative Practice for January: Work With Yourself, Not Against Yourself

One of the most meaningful creative practices I’m leaning into this January is learning how to work with myself instead of against myself.

Over the years, I’ve noticed a pattern in my creative life: when things aren’t fully set up or perfectly organized, I have a tendency to pause—or even shut down—until everything feels “ready.” Wintering has gently revealed that this instinct, while understandable, often keeps me from beginning at all. So this season, my creative practice isn’t about achieving perfect systems. It’s about allowing creativity to happen alongside the work in progress.

This January, I’m choosing to create even when the space isn’t finished, even when the plan isn’t complete, and even when everything isn’t perfectly in place. That might look like sitting down with a small paper project while supplies are still being sorted, or journaling with a few materials pulled out rather than an entire setup laid out in advance. Wintering reminds me that creativity doesn’t require ideal conditions—it asks only for willingness and presence.

A gentle way to practice this is to choose one small creative ritual and return to it regularly throughout the month. That ritual might be a few minutes of journaling, a simple paper craft, rearranging a creative corner, or quietly exploring a technique without a finished goal in mind. The practice isn’t about productivity—it’s about consistency and care.

This approach also invites grace. Grace to begin imperfectly. Grace to pause when needed. Grace to adjust systems as I learn what truly supports my creativity. Wintering allows me to see that working slowly, thoughtfully, and honestly is not a setback—it’s a form of stewardship.

As January unfolds, this creative practice helps me stay rooted. It allows creativity to support my daily life rather than overwhelm it. And it reminds me that meaningful making often grows best in small, steady moments—when we give ourselves permission to simply begin.

Free Wintering Resources for January

If you’d like a few gentle companions for your wintering season, I’ve created two free resources to support creative living, reflection, and meaningful making this January.

Wintering Gently: A January Reflection Page

      

This printable reflection page is designed for journaling, prayer, and quiet moments of intention. Use it to reflect on what you’re ready to leave behind, what you want more of in this season, and what small creative practices might nourish you through winter. It’s a simple way to pause, write, and reconnect with what feels steady and life-giving right now.

 

DIY Essentials Checklist for Wintering & Creative Living

This refreshed checklist is a practical guide for organizing your creative tools and supplies during the winter months. Whether you’re setting up a studio, revisiting materials you already have, or planning gentle projects for the season, this checklist is meant to help you create with confidence and intention—without the pressure to buy more.

Both resources are free to download and are meant to be used slowly, revisited often, and adapted to your own creative rhythm.

What I’m Working On & Sharing This Winter

This winter, my creative work is unfolding slowly and intentionally—guided by the rhythm of the season rather than a fixed timeline. Wintering has given me permission to focus on projects that feel supportive, meaningful, and rooted in everyday living, both in my home and at the Cottage Maker’s Table. 

 

In the Studio

Right now, much of my creative energy is centered around paper crafting, journaling, and small mixed-media projects. I’m revisiting techniques I love, experimenting gently, and spending time organizing and refining my studio in ways that support creativity year-round.

          This isn’t about a complete overhaul—it’s about creating systems that allow supplies to be accessible, spaces to feel calm, and creativity to remain visible without becoming overwhelming.

I’m also working through ideas for simple DIY surfaces, thoughtful storage solutions, and small projects that can be returned to again and again. Winter feels like the right time for this kind of foundational work—setting things up with care so creativity can flow more freely in the seasons ahead.

Kits, Supplies & Creative Tools

As I winter in the studio, I’m continuing to curate and refresh the supplies available here at Steel Roots Market.

      My focus remains on versatile, meaningful pieces—items that can be used in multiple ways, across seasons, and at your own pace. Rather than chasing trends, I’m choosing materials that support slow making, creative exploration, and using what you already have alongside thoughtfully chosen additions.

You’ll see a continued emphasis on paper goods, mixed-media elements, and creative tools that lend themselves well to journaling, small decor projects, and gentle experimentation.

Videos, Tutorials & Creative Inspiration

This winter, I’m also spending time planning and filming content that reflects this slower, more intentional rhythm. Tutorials and videos will focus less on rushing through steps and more on enjoying the process—sharing techniques, ideas, and inspiration in a way that feels approachable and encouraging.

Some content will be quiet and reflective, while other pieces will gently guide you through creative practices you can return to throughout the season. Wintering reminds me that learning doesn’t need to be hurried; it can unfold naturally, alongside the rest of life.

Workshops & Creative Gatherings

As the season continues, I’m also dreaming and planning for future workshops and creative gatherings—both online and in person. These will be designed with the same values in mind: meaningful making, thoughtful pacing, and a welcoming atmosphere that allows creativity to feel restorative rather than demanding.

Details will come together slowly, and I’ll be sharing more as those plans take shape. For now, this winter is about laying the groundwork and listening closely to what feels right for the season ahead.

A January Reflection

January doesn’t ask us to rush forward. It asks us to listen.

As this month continues to unfold, I’m allowing myself to reflect gently—without judgment, without pressure, and without the need to have everything figured out. Wintering has reminded me that reflection isn’t about fixing or improving; it’s about noticing what’s already present and tending to it with care.

This season has invited me to consider what I’m ready to leave behind from the past year—habits that no longer serve, expectations that feel heavy, and the constant pull to keep up. At the same time, it’s helping me name what I want more of in my days this winter: steadiness, creativity, meaningful work, and moments of quiet connection in my home and studio.

I’ve also been reflecting on where I feel most at home right now—not just physically, but creatively and spiritually. Winter has a way of narrowing our focus, drawing us inward, and clarifying what truly matters. For me, that has meant choosing fewer distractions, embracing smaller creative practices, and giving myself permission to move at a pace that feels honest and sustainable.

As you move through January, I invite you to pause and reflect in your own way. You might ask yourself:

• What am I ready to release from the past season?
  
  

• What do I want more of in my days this winter?
  
  

• What small creative practice would nourish me right now?
  
  

• What does my heart need to feel steady and supported in this season?
  
  

Wintering is not falling behind—it’s a quiet preparation for what will grow next. January offers us the space to rest, reflect, and gently realign before the world begins to stir again.

              Winter doesn’t rush us toward answers.
                              It invites us to stay.

As January continues, I’m choosing to honor this quieter rhythm—creating slowly, living intentionally, and allowing my home and studio to evolve one thoughtful step at a time. Wintering has reminded me that meaningful making doesn’t come from doing more, but from paying attention to what’s already here.

If you find yourself in a similar season, I hope this space encourages you to move gently, work with what you have, and give yourself grace as you create and live through winter. There is beauty in the pause, value in the in-between, and so much quiet growth happening beneath the surface.

Thank you for spending time here at the Cottage Maker’s Table.
May your days be steady, your creativity supported, and your winter filled with small moments that feel like home.

♡

  With grace,
Carrie
Steel Roots Market

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