The New Year is upon us already and the season of self-reflection is in full swing. Resolutions are being made, goals are being set and fresh calendars are being hung up on the walls. Yearly financial plans are being finalized. People are flocking to the gyms and planning healthier lifestyles for themselves and their families. Closets are being organized and purged! Books that challenge the mind are being bought and placed upon countless nightstands. People are drinking more water! Hope for new beginnings fills the air like magic… hey-oh! It’s two thousand and seventeen!
I, on the other hand? I ate a snickers bar for breakfast this morning and I still haven’t unpacked my bag from a trip I took 10 days ago. We’ve had pizza for dinner more times already this year than I’d like to admit, and I STILL haven’t gotten anything put together for my son’s eighth birthday which is in… oh, two days.
New Year’s resolutions have never come easy to me, and as much as I’d like to say I am an organized and goal-driven person, I’m just not. This year has already felt much more “frazzled” than “fresh” but that seems to be par for the course for me. Can anyone else relate? I’ve spent countless years in the past beating myself up over this. Every year, I would resolve to… resolve something. I mean, what does it say about a person if they can’t even commit to committing to something? To anything at all? As I scroll through my Facebook feed, I marvel at everyone’s determination and drive. Then, I determine to drive myself… to the nearest pizza place for dinner again. Haha.
The one thing that feels different for me this year, however, is the lack of feeling bad about myself over all of this. As I get older, something inside of me is getting more and more comfortable with the concept of the slow becoming. Goals are good and healthy, and deadlines are sometimes necessary of course, but I am realizing that there simply is no ‘deadline’ for when I have to have everything in my life all figured out. When I look back at who I was when I was twenty, I am amazed at how far I have come. I can’t help but think that my 70-year-old self will feel much the same way when she looks back at the frazzled mess that I am now. I find a lot of peace in that. It somehow takes the pressure off. I am slowly becoming, and I will be until my very last breath. Every day and every experience is slowly molding and shaping me, and I am learning to be okay with the long process.
Yes, I would love to be healthier and read more books. Yes, I am cheering on those who have set good goals for themselves this New Year. Yes, I should probably go unpack my suitcase. But, no, I am no longer beating myself up for being resolution-less every January 1st. I’m a work in progress, no matter what day or month of the year it may be. So, Happy New Day, y’all! I can’t wait to see what the next one will bring…