Last updated by Madison Carter
Before you open your January journal, a card has a message for you 🔮
Draw today's card and write it at the top of your first page: it sets the tone for your observation.
In Mexico and Central America they are called cabañuelas, and Mexican communities in the United States still keep the custom: the weather on each of the first twelve days of January is said to foretell one month of the year. January 1 stands for January, January 2 for February, and so on until January 12, which speaks for December. Italian, Portuguese and French farmers had their own versions of the same idea.
There's no vigil here and no wishes handed to the fire: these are days, not nights, and you observe instead of asking. That's what sets this practice apart from the Twelve Holy Nights that run from Christmas to Epiphany. All you need is a notebook and a few minutes a day. So how do you turn the first 12 days of January into a mirror of your year?
When
Friday, January 1 through Tuesday, January 12, 2027 (one day = one month), then a reread on the 1st of every month
Time
2 minutes when you wake up and 10 minutes in the evening, for 12 days
What you need
A notebook, a pen, a window or a patch of sky
The 5 observations
The day's sky · Your mood · Your dream · The encounter · The everyday sign
The key gesture
Every evening, fill in the page for the month that matches the day, without interpreting anything before the 12th
✦
It started as farmers' weather lore. In Mexico, growers keep a daily log of the sky from January 1 to 12, and day 10, for instance, answers for October; the forecast helped them plan their planting. In the Italian countryside the same days are called the calende. In Portugal they are the arremedas, from arremedar, “to imitate”: tal dia, tal mês, as the day goes, so goes the month. And an old French proverb says the first twelve days of January show the weather of the twelve months.
Let's be clear: no weather service forecasts the year this way, and modern meteorology doesn't give it any predictive value. What has lasted through the centuries is something else: the intuition that the beginning already holds the whole, and that the start of a year deserves to be watched closely.
The count doesn't always stop on January 12, and the calendar changes from one country to the next.
In Mexico, the following twelve days act as a cross-check: from January 13 to 24 the months are counted backward, the 13th for December and the 24th for January, and the two series are compared. In Spain, the best-known cabañuelas are watched in August instead, from the 1st to the 24th.
Some contemporary spiritual teachers have carried the idea into the inner world: the first twelve days of the year are linked to the twelve months ahead, and the way you live them, what you think and feel, lays the foundation for the year. That's the reading this journal offers: not watching for rain anymore, but watching yourself.
Sources: Wikipedia (Spanish), “Cabañuelas”; Expansión (2024); La Nación (2026); El Español (2018); calende: Città della Spezia (2026), Scopri la Brianza (2020); arremedas: O Despertar (2019); French proverb: Météo-Contact, L'Internaute; spiritual reading: Nature et Christianisme, Prosveta.
✦
Farmers looked at the sky; your journal also looks at what is going on inside and around you. Each day, five headings and a line or two for each. It's not a diary: it's a log, like the one farmers kept of the wind and the clouds.
Your link to the tradition · every morning · 1 minute
Open the window or look up as you step outside: bright sun, mist, rain, wind, a low sky or a luminous one. Jot it down in a few words, the way cabañuelas watchers did. It's the thread that ties your journal to generations of people who lived by the sky.
You won't get July's weather out of it, but you'll often notice that the day's sky and your inner state answer each other. A clear afternoon after a foggy morning is already an image worth keeping for the month it stands for.
What you feel · in the evening · 2 minutes
In the evening, find one word for the day: calm, restless, joyful, heavy, impatient, light. Then add what shifted it, if there was a turning point. A mood is neither good nor bad: it's an indication, like the wind for a farmer.
Be honest with yourself. A May page written on a tired day doesn't announce a wasted month; it may simply point to a need for rest worth planning around that time.
What the night leaves you · when you wake · 1 minute
Keep the notebook by your bed and, before you even get up, write down what you remember: an image, a place, a feeling, a face. The dream of the night of January 3 goes on the page for the 4th, which is April. If dreams speak to you, here's how to understand your dreams and what to make of premonitory dreams.
No dream? Just write “quiet night.” A page without a dream is still a complete page.
The people of the day · in the evening · 2 minutes
An unexpected conversation, a friend who calls back, a kind stranger in line, some tension with someone close. Write down the encounter that stayed with you that day, even a brief one, and what it left you with.
Over the year, these encounters often start to make sense: the person you met on January 6 who shows up again in June, the topic from the 9th that becomes central in the fall. They say there's no such thing as coincidence: you'll see what comes back.
What made you look up · during the day · 1 minute
A bird on the windowsill, a song that plays at just the right moment, a word you read three times in one day, a lost object that turns up. These are the little signs from the Universe, the synchronicities we barely notice and forget the next day. The journal holds on to them for you.
Don't try to manufacture them: one is enough, and some days bring none. If a symbol keeps coming back, these lucky charms and omens can help you read it.
✦
Elevate your spiritual consciousness 🌿
👉 Connect with guides & sacred tools →
🌿 Embrace your spiritual journey with expert guidance & sacred tools
The ritual lasts twelve days, from January 1 to 12, 2027: two minutes when you wake up and about ten in the evening. It only takes a notebook and a pen, and you do it on your own, at home, even with the holidays winding down around you.
1. Set up your notebook before January 1. Pick a new notebook, or one you keep just for this. Title twelve double pages: “January 1 → January,” “January 2 → February,” all the way to “January 12 → December.” Under each title, write the five headings: sky, mood, dream, encounter, sign. Leave the notebook and a pen by your bed.
2. When you wake up, write the dream first. Before you check your phone, open the day's page and note whatever is left of the night, even a fragment. A few words are enough: they fade fast once the day gets going.
3. Look at the sky for one minute. At the window or on the doorstep, watch the light, the clouds, the wind. Write it in one line. It's the exact gesture of the old weather watchers, and it grounds you in the day ahead.
4. Live the day without searching. Don't hunt for signs: just live as usual. Keep a soft kind of attention, the kind that notices without grabbing. If something strikes you (a phrase, an encounter, an object), note it in one word on your phone so you don't forget it.
5. In the evening, fill in the month's page. Sit down quietly for ten minutes. Complete the mood, the encounter and the sign of the day. End the page with one word or one color that sums up the day: that's the word you'll read first when the month arrives.
6. Don't interpret anything before the 12th. This is the hardest step. For twelve days, don't reread earlier pages and don't draw conclusions. You're gathering; sorting comes later. A rough day doesn't “doom” a month: you write it down, that's all.
7. If you miss a day, pick up the next one. Write what you remember of the missed day, or leave the page blank with the note “resting page.” Don't shift the months: January 7 is still the July page, no matter what.
8. On the evening of the 12th, close the notebook. Reread all twelve pages in one sitting, slowly. On the back of each, write a single sentence for the month it stands for: “In March, get outside more,” “In October, have that conversation.” Then close the notebook and put it somewhere you'll find it again.
One Day, One Month: The January 2027 Calendar 🗓️
Friday, January 1 → January
Saturday, January 2 → February
Sunday, January 3 → March
Monday, January 4 → April
Tuesday, January 5 → May
Wednesday, January 6 → June
Thursday, January 7 → July
Friday, January 8 → August
Saturday, January 9 → September
Sunday, January 10 → October
Monday, January 11 → November
Tuesday, January 12 → December
👉 Want to go further? As in Mexico, you can keep going from January 13 to 24, counting backward (the 13th for December, the 24th for January), and compare the two pages for each month.
✦
On the 1st of each month
Open the page for the month that's starting and reread it, along with the sentence you wrote on the back on January 12. Two minutes is plenty: you head into the month with its “forecast” in mind, like a farmer checking the log before planting.
What you don't force
A gloomy page isn't a prediction of bad luck, and a bright page isn't a promise. The journal gives you a color, a lead, something to watch for: you write the month, not the notebook.
At the end of the year
In December, reread the whole journal and note, page by page, what actually happened: what resonated and what didn't pan out. Next year you'll know better what your twelve days can tell you.
And if you'd like to set intentions for your new year afterward, our psychics' New Year rituals and spiritual resolutions pick up from there: the journal itself only observes.
Over my years of practice, I've come to love the rituals that ask for nothing more than attention, and this is one of them. What I take from it: a January page doesn't predict, it nudges. Reread at the right moment, it reminds you of what you already knew without knowing it. Keep this in mind: your twelve days shed light, they don't decide anything. You're the one who lives the months ahead, in co-creation with the Universe, and you're completely free to prove a gray page wrong.
✦
According to an old folk belief found in Mexico (cabañuelas), Italy (calende), Portugal (arremedas) and France, each of the first twelve days of January foretells the weather of one month: January 1 for January, January 12 for December. It was folk weather lore; today you can apply it to what you feel and notice.
The count follows the order of the months: January 1 for January, January 2 for February, January 3 for March, and so on to January 12, which matches December. In Mexico, people then count backward from January 13 to 24.
Write it down as it was, without drama. A hard day doesn't doom the month it stands for: at most it flags something to watch. When the 1st of that month comes, reread the page with some distance and decide what to do with it.
Yes. If you discover the practice on January 5, start with the May page and fill in the earlier days from memory, without worrying about the gaps. The principle stays the same: one day, one month, and a reread at the start of each month.
Key Takeaways 📌
Our Editors' Insight: Reread Your Journal With Fresh Eyes
A page in your journal intrigues you, a dream keeps coming back, a sign won't let go? A psychic can help you read what your twelve days of January are telling you about the year ahead, based on your own situation.
Talk to a psychic 🔮✦ ✦
Article presented by
Madison Carter
"Psychic Healer & Angelic Channel for MyAstro ✨ As a psychic healer and angelic channel, I translate loving guidance from the divine into practical wisdom. My work is dedicated to delivering messages from guardian angels that bring clarity, comfort, and deep spiritual healing. Through MyAstro, I aim..."
Read on
The heartache, Whether you're facing sleepness nights, seeking answers, or simply need a fresh perspective - our trusted advisors and editors are here to help. Share your questions and receive guidance to your situation.
When the year winds down, it's tempting to turn the page and wipe everything clean. This ritual invites you to do the opposite: look at your old scars, on your body and in your heart, and honor them as the memory of everything you've been through. Four simple gestures, inspired by the Japanese art of kintsugi.
You sleep, you rest, and still nothing comes back: not the drive, not the joy of little things. It isn't your body that's running on empty, it's your spark. Here are the signs of soul burnout, what it's trying to tell you, and the simple daily steps that help you find, little by little, what lights you up.
A list of resolutions snaps at the first slip. A single word bends without breaking. Here's how to find yours on your own: the four questions to ask yourself between Christmas and January, how to sort the candidates, the test that settles the finalists, and where to keep your word so it stays with you all year.
Who hasn't experienced that moment of panic in front of their closet, just a few hours before New Year's Eve? Those long minutes spent scrutinizing your clothes wondering "What on earth am I going to wear?" 😅 Don't worry anymore: this year, I'm here to help you choose the perfect outfit that will not only flatter you but also attract all the good energies for 2027!
Lose weight, exercise more, less screen time... and by February, the list is gathering dust in a drawer. What if your resolutions were simply missing roots? Here is the ritual that ties each one to what truly matters to you, then turns it into a small daily gesture, to be done on New Year's Eve or at the first New Moon of 2027.
Yule is the festival of the longest night and the return of the light. Inherited from the Germanic peoples and revived by Wicca, it is celebrated at the winter solstice, on December 21 in 2026. Here is what it means, its symbols and a simple ritual you can do at home that evening. 🕯️
Did you like this article?
Want to know more 🤔 ?
Write directly to the authorMadisonCarter !
Ask Madison a question