It’s hard not to be sentimental and cliched at this time of the year. New Year is that lovely hiatus, where, for a moment or two, it seems possible to say goodbye to your previous years’ failures, plan to address any regrets and set yourself life changing goals that will make the coming year a “perfect” year.
It’s also hard not to be cynical because, clearly, that’s all a load of nonsense. Still, it’s nice nonsense, and I go with it every year. That’s right, I go though all the motions: melancholy about how fast the year has gone by, sadness that I’ve not achieved , a nostalgic look through old photos and successes, and a list of resolutions and goals.
What I can’t figure out is if all this is terribly important or terribly wasteful. How much should we look back and how much should we look ahead? How do you balance optimism and pessimism? Are resolutions worth the brain space they’re coded on?
Well, given that it’s December 30th, I’ve baked cupcakes for New Year’s Eve, it’s snowing outside and I’ve got a list of things I’m grateful for as long as my arm, I reckon it’s time to forget those things that went a bit wonky (didn’t do a good job not worrying, did I?), store a few quiet goals in my mind and get on with the most important thing there is: being the best you can be in the here and now. That’s not a bad resolution now, is it?