There’s a decent amount of history in regard to New Year resolutions. Many cultures and religions view the New Year (whenever it occurs) as a time of rebirth, a time to change.
I’ve always found resolutions to be, well, futile. When I was younger, I’d make them and not keep them. Or I’d keep them for a few months before I got distracted by the ins-and-outs of daily life. And then I’d feel bad about not keeping the resolution.
I no longer make the type of resolutions that seem to abound this time of year. There are no resolutions to lose weight, no promises to exercise five times a week or write 1,000 words every day.
For several years now, I’ve made the same resolution at the beginning of each year: to enjoy myself.
This is a promise to myself.
I’m prone to forget that life is meant for living. And enjoying.
I get caught up in the daily grind. I come down hard on myself for being so flighty with my hobbies and passions. I compare my day to day existence with other people’s highlight reels. I question where I stand in my career status, my education level, my writing, even though I know better.
I need to be reminded that more than one hobby is a boon, mentally and physically. I need to be reminded that I decided some time ago that I don’t want fiction writing as a career but as something I do for myself (though if other people can enjoy it and get something out of it, I revel in that).
And I need to remember that there is no right place—in my career, my education, or in my level of adulthood (some people seem convinced I should own a house by now)—that I should be at this point in my life.
The important thing is that I’m enjoying where I am, who I’m with, and what I’m doing.
So that’s the promise I make for 2014.
To enjoy my continuing journey. The specifics of this year will vary from last. I will face new challenges and moments where I’ll need to reel myself back in with the reminder of my yearly goal.
What’s your resolution?