New Year’s Resolutions

 

“To be is to do” ~ Socrates

“To do is to be” ~Sartre

“Do be do be do” ~ Sinatra

Or as my grandmother was quoted in her high school year book when the seniors were asked about their aspirations, “Ambitions? Julius Caesar had ambitions. Look what happened to him!”

So, what do you say as we enter a new decade? Do we give New Year’s Resolutions one more whirl around the dance floor or resign ourselves to being the (loveable and somewhat pudgy) schmucks we always have been?

I used to be a New Year’s Resolution nut. In fact, I was so determined to do them right that I would set goals in December so I could give them a test drive for a month before committing. (No, I’m not kidding.) Maybe it was all those years of Catholic schooling, but I was definitely a “rules person.” And what with those Commandments and all, not to mention the persistent risks of falling to the fiery depths if we strayed too far in life, the setting of resolutions seemed like a prudent course of action for me. I thought anyone who didn’t make them was kind of a slacker, in all honesty.

I’ve grown up a little since then.

While I may not always have shed the obligatory ten pounds with each turn of the calendar, I’ve certainly shed the equivalent in judgments the last few years. Of course, like those ten pounds, my judgments do tend to creep back in over the course of a year (especially when I’m driving on Chicago roads), so I am still an advocate of an annual character review, even if I don’t make resolutions anymore. At this point in my life, losing those ten pounds isn’t really something I think much about. I’m 57, not 27. There are certain clothes I shouldn’t wear anymore, period, I don’t care how much I weigh. In fact, the less I focus on weight, and simply on what makes my body feel good, the easier it’s been to stay in my ideal range. Funny how that happens.

While the physical weight has become less important, along with making my bed every day, keeping a spit-shined house and making a boatload of money, shedding the weight of judgments and negativity has become more important as I have gotten older.  In fact, if you want a beauty secret, I’d have a hard time thinking of a better one.

Seeing a few of my dearest people  finish out their lives the past several years did a lot to open my eyes to the value of people over things. But even more, it has been my observation of those still living that has taught me to let go. Where I used to judge, I now try to simply observe.  I find I learn a lot more that way and usually about how similar I am to everyone else. The lessons serve me so much better than the gold stars I would give myself for whatever superiority I thought I had. It wasn’t that I was haughty, really. I just so often thought I could have done something better if I had done it myself. I could have worded something better than someone else did in an argument, or set a better course of action to resolve a problem, or seasoned the roast better if I had been cooking.  You know, there are all those little tweaks we would make to each other’s lives if given half a chance. 

Or maybe that was just me and a few tough mothers-in-law.

While it’s no longer about pounds, I’ve decided I just don’t want to feel that full any more. Full of opinions. Full of criticism. Full of judgment and the irritation that goes with it. I also don’t want to carry around self-doubt and self-consciousness. Worry. Pettiness. The need to ruminate over minor irritations. I’m cutting my inner George Costanza loose.

Sometimes it seems like the world is nearing the end for our species. Even though I don’t really think this one ahead of us is going to be our swan song but if I could live in the lightness of forgiveness, acceptance and even love of those sharing this planet with me, even for one year, that would be enough for me. I wouldn’t need more.

And it I'm wrong and the end IS really that near?  I want to go light. (Okay, and maybe with an éclair in my hand.)