It Should Be So Simple

Here we are at the end of the third week of January, and I still haven't decided what to do about resolutions for the new year.  At some point, of course, the question becomes moot.  Nondeciding becomes a decision.  But are we there yet?  Has the renewal train already left the station?


I've had years in the past when I didn't make New Years resolutions, and more when I did.  Some I kept.  Too many, I did not.  But I can't recall a year when I couldn't make up my mind, even about whether to engage in the ritual or not.


Maybe I am suffering from improvement fatigue.  Last year, I pushed and prodded myself into anteing up more changes than in any year I can recall.  I don't want to reduce this year's resolutions to "ditto," but neither do I want to retreat from those efforts I am still working hard to maintain.  As I pass through the mental buffet of possible good intentions, I am aware of a plate near capacity.


I have been considering the "word for the year" approach, touted by Gretchen Rubin in her recent Happiness Project video post, and recommended by life coaches and others--including a website devoted to the approach called My One Word--as "a new kind of resolution."  The idea is to come up with a one-word theme for the year, a word that will encapsulate and inspire the way we want the coming year to be spent, the change we intend.  


Apparently, some people have been doing this for a long time, with or more often without the accompaniment of the standard list of too-easily-broken-early-in-the-year promises of reform and achievement.  But they were pretty much keeping it to themselves.  The practice is only now trickling down to my little corner of the mainstream.


The simplicity appeals, but I am having trouble with execution.  A number of words recommend themselves.  But that is the problem.  For this word-obsessed communicator, the struggle to select just one is reminiscent of the old Lay's potato chip commercial--you know, "No one can eat just one?"  Or is it more like Sophie's Choice, given the stakes, and the wrench of the decision?  


Among my contenders, at present?  Compassion.  Ease.  Journey.  Coffee.  Revel.  Dance.  Sing.  Serenity.  Listen.  Release.  Laugh.  Alive.  Nutmeg.  Space.  Snoopy.  Parvenu.  Grace.  Shell.  Hand-made.  Grow.  Slow.  Persevere.  Believe.  Course.  Smooth.  Bliss.  Up.  Strong.  Quiet.  Breathe.  Stay.  Declutter.  Be. . . . and so many, many others.


You see my dilemma.  (Oh, what about Dilemma?)  The search continues. . . 

To Resolve or Not To Resolve?

Okay.  Here it is the 5th of January, and I still haven't decided whether I'm making New Year's resolutions--or not.  So what is that about?


Maybe a pros and cons list will help me figure this out.  I have come up with the following positive thoughts about New Year's Resolutions--hereinafter referred to as NYRs.


NYR Pros
1.  I've (almost) always made them, so they're part of my tradition.
2.  NYRs give focus to my efforts to improve myself and my life.
3.  NYRs are useful conversation fodder at this time of year.
4.  If I manage to keep all or most--or what the heck! even some--of them, NYRs can strengthen my good opinion of myself.
5.  The exercise of considering and choosing NYRs makes for some pretty deep reflection.


All good, yes?  So why wouldn't I make like a polar bear and take the plunge?  What's not to love about NYRs?


NYR Cons
1.  I've (almost) always made them, so they're part of my tradition.  (Not so obviously a good thing.)
2.  NYRs can limit my focus, and concentrate my efforts too narrowly.
3.  As an NYR agnostic, I believe that my human mind is too small to know with certainty that NYRs have anything to do with outcomes, or with the quality of my life in the year ahead.
4.  If I manage to break all or most--or what the heck! even some--of them, NYRs can reinforce my low opinion of myself.
5.  The exercise of considering and choosing NYRs would require an amount of time and energy (given my perfectionism, which, come to think of it, maybe I should resolve to eliminate) that could be spent actually accomplishing something, resolved or not.


Clearly, neither list is exhaustive.  And since I have created two 5-item lists, I can't make my decision on a quantitative basis.  


As a fledgling Buddhist, I can see the attachment aspect of NYRs.  Not good.  But then I could resolve to let go of attachments. . . . But wouldn't that be basically becoming attached to the idea of non attachment?


Okay, now I'm getting a headache.


I have a provisional list of resolutions, just in case I decide to adopt any.  (Which makes me wonder who their original parents might have been, and why they decided to relinquish them.)


Revisiting last year's post on the subject of NYRs, I see that my quandary is not new.  Apparently, at least some things stay the same.  But what does that mean for the question at hand?  Resolve?  Don't resolve?


I resolve to think about it some more.

How to Safely Approach New Year’s Resolutions: 7 Strategies

New Year’s resolutions can be treacherous to those of us struggling with procrastination, perfectionism, and all such manner of action-stopping tics.  I note that the first page of my new calendar includes a deep-breathing instruction, probably for that reason.

With tongue-only-partly-in-cheek, I submit the following list of ways to deal with this annual challenge.

1.  Don’t risk it!

    At 12:02 this morning, our soon-to-be nineteen-year-old exemplified this stance, announcing that he would not be making any New Year’s resolutions, since not keeping them would be just one more way of feeling bad about himself.  "Statistics show"--and who are we to argue--that most of us won't keep whatever resolutions we make beyond the first few weeks of this new year.  If you've been burned before by having to confront yet another self-disappointment, this may be the way to go.

    2.  Play the odds

    Make so many New Year’s Resolutions that you are bound to keep some, even accidentally.  If this is your strategy-of-choice, go ahead and throw in some freebies, like try to live through the year, or don't join the Polar Bear Club.  (You could check that one off today!)

   3.  Make only one resolution

   Though the decision-making involved in getting this one right may be pretty intimidating (world peace?  cure for cancer?...), this strategy offers the appeal of simplicity, and might be a boon to those of us struggling with short-term memory.

    4.  Resolve to keep doing what you already do

        This approach relies on inertia for its success.  Though it should be noted that, as the recent adage goes, “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.”  Unless you are a phenomenally successful and self-actualized person, this may not yield a satisfying result.  There is probably such a thing as setting your standards too low.

       5.  Recycle a previous list

     Resurrecting old resolutions can save time.  This is stuff you already know you  wanted to do.  And those perfectionists among us who have difficulty accepting failure get another chance to redeem ourselves.  However, if you decide to go this way, you run the risk of trying to board ships that have already left the harbor.

 6.  Use the most popular resolutions

     Several sources I checked agree that the most popular New Year’s resolutions are:  1) to lose weight; 2) to exercise; and 3) to stop smoking.  In my case, using this list would give me a leg up, since I  stopped smoking before my sixteen-year-old was conceived.

 7.  Choose a resolution randomly

     You might write down several possible resolutions and pick (or have someone pick for you) one or more, with or without blindfolding.  You might experiment with hats, spinners, dice, or whatever amusing device comes to mind.  Or you could get really elaborate and employ technological randomization.  The beauty of this tactic is that it puts the emphasis on the keeping of the resolution rather than on the making of the perfect one.  Of course, you may end up virtuously committed to something relatively meaningless, even gobbledygook.

In presenting this admittedly incomplete, and determinedly imperfect guide, I am keeping at least two of the resolutions I am considering making today—to eschew perfectionism in favor of accomplishment, and to maintain this newborn blog.  I wish anyone who might accidentally come upon this entry, and my husband and sister who will read it on purpose (or claim to have), a happy, imperfect, unblocked New Year!