As the first week of the new year comes to a close, I have a confession to make. Three days into 2017, I broke one of my resolutions. Then, I broke another one. And another one.
I couldn’t make it through one week with all of my resolutions intact. Truth be told, I don’t know that I ever have or that I ever will. So, if I can’t make it through the first 7 days of this new year, what is the point of making these resolutions in the first place? This is the juncture where some of my resolutions and I usually part ways, as my excuses and rationalizations pick off each resolution one by one, until there are few survivors, if any. Not this time. Not this year.
When I set forth my intentions and made my resolutions for the upcoming year, I chose ones that were truly meaningful to me. The very thought of what my heart and mind conjured up brings a smile to my face. Fills me with great joy, hope, and anticipation. Makes me want to get of bed each morning and start my day. Encourages me to keep trying when I falter. Inspires me to be a better person. Renews my faith in the world around me and myself. They are that powerful.
I wasn’t perfect when I committed to these resolutions, so, I never expected myself to be perfect in the pursuit of them. I accepted setbacks, challenges, and outright failure as part of the path to seeing these resolutions through to fruition, and indeed, they are. I just had hoped that I would not experience them this early in the year. At least, that’s what I thought, at first.
It was easy to slowly begin to sink down into the emotional quicksand of guilt, frustration, and sadness about the resolutions I had chosen to break. Yes, I chose to break them. That may not have been my intent, but that is exactly what I did. More than once. I made a choice. And I didn’t like it.
The fact that I chose such powerful resolutions for myself, coupled with the full understanding that I had a choice in either honoring them or discarding them, allowed me to make a better decision. If I could break a resolution, then, I also could unbreak a resolution.
When I hit snooze too many times on my alarm clock, instead of hitting the elliptical trainer or the road for a workout, instead of skipping exercise altogether, I made time to do it later that same day.
When I fell asleep without writing in my gratitude journal, I made time the next day to capture those grateful moments. The day may have changed from one to the other, but my gratitude was the same.
When I felt overwhelmed and sad about a situation that I had a part in, I dissolved into tears privately and blamed myself for it in its entirety. Later, I offered apologies to those who were involved in the situation, and now, I am working on what I can learn from it. Sometimes, I am a slow learner, but I can and will learn.
I broke a few resolutions, but they didn’t break me. There are more than 300 days left in this year, and I refuse to allow a few missteps derail me. I created these resolutions to be motivators and inspirations, not chains to hold me prisoner to my faults and mistakes. I don’t have to be perfect to pursue them. I only need to be willing to fail and succeed, and I am. Every day of the year, until my resolutions become realities.
That’s another story . . .
Categories: That's Another Story