JUST PUBLISHED: In Hawaii, this time of the year isn’t for dieting, detoxing or ‘new year, new you’ — it’s for doing absolutely nothing

If you were limping towards the end of a Dry January, fed up with resolutions and craving a break from all this ‘self-improvement’, you might want to borrow an idea from Hawaii.

Because traditionally, this was the time of year when Hawaiians did something that to most people is almost unthinkable: nothing at all.

For centuries, the start of the year marked Makahiki, a sacred season dedicated to Lono, the god of peace, rain and growth. Work slowed (and in some cases stopped altogether), conflict was forbidden and communities were expected to rest, reconnect and give thanks for what they already had.

Modern life in Hawaii no longer allows months of downed tools. People have jobs, school runs and flooded inboxes like the rest of us. But among Native Hawaiian families and cultural practitioners, myself included, the memory of Makahiki is still strong, and the ideas behind it are still talked about, taught and quietly practised across the island.

And those ideas are surprisingly relevant to anyone crawling through the end of a cold and wet British January on fumes.

At the heart of Makahiki was something called hoʻokupu, an offering made in thanks for the year that had passed. Families would give food, handmade items, cloth or tools, which were then shared across communities so that everyone benefited.

It was gratitude you could see. If you had enough, you gave. If the land had fed you, you acknowledged it.

Instead of asking, “What do I need to change about myself or my life in the next 12 months?”, the question was, “What do I already have? What can I celebrate? and What can I share?”

Makahiki also recognised something we’re rarely allowed to remember, drowned out by social feeds and brands urging us towards a shinier, slimmer, ‘better’ version of ourselves: rest and relaxation is not laziness but a necessary part of life.

People paused work so the land and ocean could recover before the next growing season. They paused so they could recover too. There were games, music, storytelling and visits to neighbours instead of constant labour and attempts to “fix” themselves.

The belief was simple and makes perfect sense: you cannot begin again properly when you are already exhausted.

You don’t need to recreate ancient ceremonies to use the same thinking now. Wherever in the world you are — in a city flat, a suburban semi or a village miles from the sea — the idea behind Makahiki still fits. It asks you to pause, to notice what you already have, and to let rest and generosity set the tone before you ask anything more of yourself.

A modern hoʻokupu might be:

·       Donating food to a local homeless charity or food bank

·       Giving away clothes you don’t wear

·       Cooking for a neighbour or someone in need

·       Offering your time to someone who needs it

And the Makahiki “pause” could look like:

·       Enjoying a long walk without your phone

·       An afternoon doing nothing useful at all (and not feeling guilty about it)

·       Saying no to plans or requests without feeling you have to justify yourself

Hawaiians today don’t literally stop their lives each January. But the wisdom behind Makahiki still circulates in stories, schools, family traditions — and in something you might not expect: games.

Across the islands, many schools, community groups, hotels and colleges still hold annual Lonoikamakahiki festivals, where people come together for traditional sporting competitions, music and shared food. Events include everything from spear throwing and relay races to strength tests and cooperative team challenges. They are joyful, noisy, physical and communal, and also deeply symbolic.

These games were once part of the Makahiki season, designed to bring families and communities together in a spirit of gratitude, celebration and connection. As one Hawaiian educator puts it, they remain “a time for families to mingle and give thanks for all the many blessings.”

In other words, Makahiki was never about self-denial or self-improvement but about the community, generosity and renewal through rest and shared experience.

So before you write another list of things to improve about yourself or your life, try something far less demanding: Give something away. Cancel something. Let yourself rest. Spend time with people you care about.

That, more than any resolution, is the true spirit of Makahiki.