January Full Moon - The Wolf Moon
- sjholisticyoga
- Jan 2
- 5 min read
The Wolf Moon rises in January, when the earth is quiet and the year is still finding its footing. I always feel this moon as a threshold. Not a clean beginning, but a deep pause. A moment where the old year has not quite loosened its grip, and the new one has not yet asked anything of us.
This year, it will rise on Saturday 3 January and will be at its fullest at 10.03 GMT. However, it will look its most impressive when closest to the horizon at evening moonrise.
Wolves do not howl because they are lost. They howl because they are in relationship with their environment. They respond to the cold, to the vastness of the landscape, to one another. In this way, the Wolf Moon becomes an invitation to listen to our own inner calls. Not to silence them or fix them, but to recognise them as signals. Messengers from a deeper layer of knowing.
For the wolves, midwinter is a time of scarcity. The land is quiet, food harder to find, and survival depends on listening closely to instinct and to one another. The howl is not only a sound of hunger, but of communication. A way of locating the pack. Of calling across distance and darkness to say, I am here. Where are you?
There is something deeply human in this image. Hunger is not only about food. It can be a longing for warmth, for connection, for meaning. Under the Wolf Moon, these hungers are harder to ignore because the usual distractions have fallen away. The nights are long, the world is quieter, and what we need rises to the surface.
In yoga, intuition is not about sudden flashes of insight or dramatic gut reactions. It is about clarity.
There is a part of us that can see things as they truly are, beneath habit, fear, and old conditioning. When we slow down enough, this quieter wisdom begins to surface. It does not shout or rush us. It feels steady, grounded, and calm.
Instinct, in this sense, is not the same as reacting on autopilot. It is the body and mind working together, drawing on experience and inner truth to guide us wisely. Under the Wolf Moon, when life naturally becomes quieter and less demanding, there is more space to hear this inner voice. Intuition arrives not as a fully formed answer, but as a gentle sense of knowing, a feeling of yes or no that we can trust without needing to explain it.
This is not a moon that urges us to strive. It does not demand resolutions or reinvention. Instead, it asks us to listen.
In yoga philosophy, we are reminded again and again that wisdom arises when the noise settles. Through pratyahara, the drawing in of the senses, we turn away from constant stimulation and towards inner listening. The Wolf Moon mirrors this beautifully. The world is quieter. The nights are long. There is less distraction. What remains is the steady hum of what is true.
I often think of this time of year as deeply tamasic. Heavy. Slow. Inward. Tamas is so often misunderstood as something to overcome, but in winter, it is essential. It is the quality that allows us to rest, to gestate, to recover. Under the Wolf Moon, there is an invitation to honour this rather than resist it. To stop pushing light into places that are meant to be dark for now.
The wolf itself offers another quiet teaching. Wolves survive through connection. Through rhythm. Through an attuned relationship with their environment and with one another. They do not apologise for their needs. They do not rush the season.
This moon invites me to ask myself gentler questions.
Where do I feel a sense of belonging right now
What part of me is asking to be nourished
What is calling quietly beneath the surface
In yogic terms, this is svadhyaya, the practice of self-study. Not the analytical kind that seeks answers straight away, but the kind that sits patiently with what is unfolding. The kind that trusts that insight will come when the ground is ready.
There is a quiet wisdom in remembering that January takes its name from Janus, the Roman god with two faces. One looks back, one looks forward. January is not only about beginnings, but about holding both at once. It is a threshold month, a liminal space where reflection and intention coexist.
Yoga invites us to stand here without rushing, to acknowledge what is still unresolved from the year before, while gently sensing what may be emerging ahead. Not forcing clarity, but allowing it to unfold in its own time.
The Wolf Moon reminds me that this is not the time to bloom. It is time to tend the fire. To keep myself warm. To stay close to what feels essential.
If I sit with this moon, I do not ask what I want to achieve. I ask something simpler.
What do I need to feel safe?
What would it mean to move at the pace of winter?
Where can I soften instead of striving?
Yoga is not about becoming more. It is about remembering. Remembering my place in the wider rhythm of life. Remembering that rest is part of the path. Remembering that listening is a form of practice.
Under the Wolf Moon, I am reminded that I do not need to have everything figured out. I only need to stay present. To listen closely. And to trust that, even in the deepest winter, something wise is quietly taking shape.
Journal prompts for the January Wolf Moon
The Wolf Moon invites honesty rather than optimism. These prompts are not about fixing, planning, or becoming better. They are about listening. Take one, or let them unfold slowly over a few days. Write without polishing. Let the answers arrive in their own way.
Listening to the call
What feels like it is quietly calling to me right now, even if I do not yet understand it
What am I hungry for beneath the surface of daily life
If my body could speak freely, what would it ask for this month
Belonging and connection
Where do I feel most myself at the moment
Who or what helps me feel safe, held, or understood
Where might I be longing for deeper connection, either with others or with myself
Instinct and intuition
When have I trusted my inner knowing in the past, and how did that feel
What helps me recognise the difference between fear and true inner guidance
What feels like a quiet yes in my body right now
What feels like a quiet no
Winter wisdom
Where am I being asked to slow down rather than push forward
What would it look like to move at the pace of winter this month
What feels unfinished or unresolved from the year behind me, and what might it need from me now
Tending the fire
What needs gentle tending rather than big action
What helps me feel nourished, steady, and warm, emotionally as well as physically
What small act of care could I offer myself under this moon
You might like to close your journalling by placing a hand on your heart or belly and asking, softly: What do I need right now to feel safe enough to listen?
Like our yoga practice, the Wolf Moon does not ask for answers. It asks for presence.
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