The new year is always full of hope and promise.
Hope that we’ve learned from our past mistakes, promise that we’ll try not to make the same ones next time. Hope that we’ll choose better paths for ourselves, better opportunities, better friendships… promise that even if we don’t, it’ll be okay.
New years offer us a fresh start. And as much as I believe in the power of starting anew, what I don’t believe in are New Year’s resolutions. The idea that just because we’re going to start writing a different date on our assignments or documents (see also: the difference between college life and real life) we’re also going to magically be different versions of ourselves is dishonest and frankly, depressing. We resolve to be healthier or skinnier or heavier or more outgoing but realistically, that resolve will fade. As January 1st turns into January 8th, the excuses set in. And as January 8th turns into January 15th, the feeling of failure starts to seep in. Or maybe denial, depending on how long you personally take to cycle through the stages of grief.
Saying that you’re going to lose 10 pounds won’t make you start eating healthier or exercise more; only your own mindfulness and willpower can do that. Saying that you’re finally going to start reading more or drinking less cannot and will not change your life. The numbers 2, 0, 1, and 8 cannot change your life. Posting your resolutions on Twitter or writing them on your mirror cannot change your life. You can change your life, but when you do, it probably won’t be because of the new year.
Now, this is not to say I don’t believe in goals. Goals, as any great leader will tell you, are vital to success as a person or as an organization. All I’m saying is that NY’s resolutions, like any other goals, take work to come to fruition. Set alarms and keep records of the progress you make towards them. Keep some inspiration handy so you can remind yourself what you’re working towards. Push yourself to avoid being a statistic- don’t be one of the 92% of people who fail to achieve their resolutions (or one of the 80% who give up by February).
Instead of setting new resolutions every year, I remind myself of my ever-present goals: to present myself well, to prioritize, to swallow my fear, to speak authentically, to say yes to more opportunities, to be more mindful of my time, to be in control of my own life, to be the person I want to be, to be kind to myself, to take care of my body, to create positivity, to make time, to trust, to enjoy, and to breathe. I first set these goals for myself ahead of 2016 and I renew my vow to pursue them with each little fresh start in my life- calendar years, academic years, semesters, seasons.
They’re kind of the opposite of what goals should be; they’re not quantifiable or set to a time limit, they’re not very specific, and they can’t really be accomplished using a well-thought out plan. But they’re meaningful to me. And having no time limit means that I can’t fail, only take more time with them.
Being patient with these goals and with myself is something very necessary in my life. I don’t have myself all figured out yet, but I know that my best me is waiting for me… maybe somewhere in 2018? Maybe in Denmark? Maybe at the end of that cookbook I’ve never opened?
Okay, new plan. 2018 is about learning how to cook.
-M
Peregrination 
Leave a comment