Wellness month. That is what I renamed February, maybe fifteen years ago, when the end of January found me exhausted and ragged, with a story assignment that was late, three young kids and a spouse travelling for work. The driveway was full of snow, the sink was full of dishes. Stuff was growing at the back of the fridge.

Looking back, I see I was manifesting — trying to create what I needed by naming it. With the weight of burnout pressing down on me, even trips to the grocery store were tiring...