Dropping the Ball
You know you want to. Go ahead—write that resolution for the third year in a row. I’m sure this is the year it finally happens. This is the year you’ll make those dreams come true. This is the year you’ve finally got it figured out…
That’s my inner voice taunting the old me with pen in hand ready to make empty promises for the hundredth time, and tenth new year in a row.
I don’t do resolutions anymore.
Even someone as obsessed with personal transformation and chances to “start over,” as I am couldn’t face another year of broken vows and feeling like a failure. That’s why, a few years ago, I finally let the ball drop on new year’s resolutions.
Since then, instead of spending New Year’s Eve making fruitless lists, I’ve done some demolition. After a hot bath I lock myself in my meditation room—a.k.a. the spare bedroom—light candles and incense (or, get my “hippie on” as my hubs would say), and settle in for a serious talk…with myself. There’s always habits and beliefs I’d rather shake off than take with me into the new year, so I get up close and personal with them before my proverbial sledgehammer knocks them down. When I’m satisfied that I’ve broken the unwanted bits into small enough pieces, construction begins. The bricks of my new foundation might be things like, “I’m approaching life with love as opposed to fear,” or “I’m letting my intuition guide my choices,” not hard and fast commitments to physical change. I find that if I adjust my mindset in these ways, the physical part takes care of itself (just don’t ask my waistline).
By the time I emerge from the teardown and rebuild, I feel like I’ve stepped into a new body and a new mind, with a fresh lease on life.
Of course this squeaky clean feeling doesn’t last forever, and I’ve never successfully left all my bad habits behind on New Year’s Eve, BUT I’ve laid the groundwork for something better, and there’s no stamp of failure for missing some arbitrary goal that—let’s face it—I never had a plan for anyway.
My typical methods for new year’s release and rebuild are not uncommon to folks like me on a mission of personal betterment. In the past few weeks my inbox was flooded with ideas from inspirational women like Kris Carr, Gabby Bernstein, and my dearest Melissa Ambrosini with strikingly similar rituals to mine. MA’s Manifest and Achieve questions for entering a new year are so extensive it took weeks to sort them all out, but I learned a hell of a lot in the process and highly recommend it to anyone who wants to get clear about who and what they want to be in all months of the year.
If getting to know yourself better isn’t your thing, don’t kid yourself with hollow resolutions like lose the weight, find the partner, or get the dream job without a plan. Even slightly more specific resolutions give you something tangible to grasp and definitive action to get you started.
Disclaimer - presumptuous advice ahead!
Avoid:
Lose weight
Try:
Sign up for gym by Jan 31
Get/use fitness tracker
Stock fridge with fresh food today
Love myself enough to treat my body well
Avoid:
Find a partner
Try:
Join new club/church/organization
Sign up for dating app and go on one date per month
Make room in my life for a partner
Love myself enough to accept nothing less than what I deserve
Avoid:
Get organized
Try:
KonMari the crap out of the house
Get in on neighborhood garage sale
Play the 30 day Minimalism Game
Love myself enough to surround myself with only that which I love
You get the picture.
I still highly recommend personal demolition before or in tandem with creating better living conditions for 2020. But maybe, unlike me, you don’t need to tear the whole house down, just patch a few holes in the walls and replace the old drapes. If so, you should be the one writing the blog (hey, there’s a fun resolution for you!) I’ll be your first fan.
As 2019 drew to a close I didn’t have the energy or desire to dig down to those deeper layers of self required for true demolition, probably because being pregnant is like living in a constant state of shedding who you were for who you’re going to be and facing demons long-since buried in the foundation you thought was sturdy until the line on the pink stick turned blue. Instead, on December 31st I woke up at 11:58—after going to bed by 9:30—and waited until 12:00AM just to say:
“This is the year I speak my truth. I hope to express myself and convey my needs without being a total jerk.”
A few months from entering the uncharted waters of motherhood, being honest about what I need has never felt more important.