Laziness is working against me even blogging in time for New Years, but here I am and off we go. New Years Eve! Not a big night for me, in terms of celebrations. I will be in bed and asleep well before midnight. I’ve never had great affection for New years eve parties, since it always felt like I was uneasily hanging around hoping to be surprised by a miraculously great year. But I won’t go so far as to say that it’s a meaningless evening.
The cynics, especially the ones who are love self-inflicted failure, look down on New Years as cliché, a night of empty promises that are quickly forgotten. And a lot of resolutions do get flushed away in January, because real change is devilishly hard to make stick. But don’t throw out the idea of the new year ritual.
Instead, start off by coming to terms with the idea of flexible success. If you look at your own progress in absolute terms, things start to look grim, so look at each challenge as a measure of your effort, and take pride in the learning that each attempt gives you. Keep trying.
This year taught me a lot of things (most of which are eluding me right now, because they think that’s funny). I learned more about being a good dad, about being a better writer, and a ton about putting honest effort into things. I think I’m starting to find my voice as a writer (another concept that sounded cliché and hackneyed until it happened to me), and I’m moving towards a more harmonious life.
As for resolutions, I aim to slightly improve across the board. I’ll get a little bit better at managing my time, make it to the gym a little bit more, put a little bit more effort into my personal grooming, do a little bit more cleaning during the days. Boring, I know, but that’s a side-effect from being pretty content. I don’t have a lot of monstrous vices lurking in the shadows.
So here’s to the New Year. Take it easy.
p.s. I think I broke my left pinky toe yesterday. It’s my first broken bone ever. Pretty anti-climactic. I wonder if I’ll even get it x-rayed?