Resolving Nothing

I find the new year very stressful.

Probably, its not why you think.  I am past the phase where I’m worried about who I’m kissing at midnight.  I’ve kissed the same guy for 8 years; afterwards we look deep in each others’ eyes and say, “Wait, I thought YOU were driving.”

Like many of us, I spent my spotty youth chasing the perfect party, the perfect moment, the perfect eve. But, now I’m happy if I get to visit my family and friends who host that night, give everyone a hug, head home 5 minutes after midnight and don’t have to drive. (Remember? You’re driving.)

So, none of that is stressful.  The pressure of the new year comes solely from the resolutions.  In the suddenly-aware-of-Pinterest years of my life, I find that January 1 is this looming deadline.  I feel as though on that day, I must commence living my life in such a way that warrants a feature in Better Homes and Gardens.

I develop a super-weird enthusiasm for self-improvement.  It is the new year! I will resolve things! It is time to remove the clutter and the laziness from my life!  I will make calendars and cook healthy meals and finally start crafting.

In the last week or so, I found myself thinking often about all the things I wanted to resolve and was having trouble keeping track, so I did what all good women in my family do: I made a list.

AND IT HAD 27 ITEMS ON IT.

Twenty. Seven.

Perhaps even worse, on further review, some of them are in direct contradiction to each other. “Save money” does not jive with “Do more around the city.”  I cannot “keep house clean” if I’m “watching more movies” and “reading more”.

“Practice body positivity”, “Lose weight”, “eat healthier”…love yourself and hate yourself – ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

Why do we spend the week after Christmas thinking about how we fall short?  We are all smarter than this.  It is difficult and awesome to actually make strides towards a better version of you.  New Years resolutions, on the other hand, are a thing because gyms need to sell memberships and Target needs to sell Rubbermaid bins.

Companies are profiting from our feelings of failure. “Remember last year? When you wanted to get more organized, but didn’t invest in my 35-step process? Do we really want a repeat of that?”

Screw you, company-I-made-up – so what if I fail?

I jiggle and I am a terrible housekeeper and I only know how to play one video game.  And if none of that changes, I will still be living a relatively happy life. I eat well, I have a home to clutter and we can afford video games. And we all know that the world right now needs our time and energy for bigger things, as opposed to finally figuring out how to build a capsule wardrobe (because too many decisions is making me old!)

Some perspective is in order.  Still, there are things I’d like to work on in my life.  I just need to remember that the beginning of the year is not going imbue me with me endless motivation and sudden desire to eat vegetables all the time.  Changing is a process that involves repeated attempts and failure.  With all due respect to Yoda, I am not going to resolve. Instead, I am going to try.

My aunt always starts new resolutions on February 1, which I think is brilliant. January 1 is an arbitrary day that we decide we must start improving, and if we don’t improve, we fail.  What we forget is that after we fail, we can try again.  And again and again until we get it right or decide its not important.

So, happy new year.  I plan try – and fail – a lot in 2017.

You should plan on driving.

#tovictory