Every year on January 1st, since I was a child and at the bequest of my mother, I have sat down and written a list of ten resolutions for the year ahead. As a ten year old, and then eleven year old, and eventually a twelve year old, I dreaded these planning sessions. Me, stationed next to my mom at our breakfast table, a stack of lined notebook paper, blank and formidable, in front of me as I tried to figure out what exactly I wanted to change about myself in the year ahead.
Get better grades.
Be nicer to mom.
Quit fighting with my brothers.
I would finish my list and pass it to my mom, who would nod approvingly and dismiss me from the table. While publicly I would disregard this activity as lame or boring, privately I hung my list on my bedroom wall, pushing it into place with a thumbtack, my reluctance shifting to hope as I silently thought this is going to be my year.
I suppose my mom was trying to foster resilience in her only daughter, a life lesson born from a road-weary understanding that life is hard, but bouncing back is half the battle. And bouncing back each year I did: no matter where I was in the world, my list of ten was crafted and pinned up on whatever wall I called home at the moment. On the wall of that crappy apartment in San Francisco. In the commercial warehouse I lived in illegally that had no walls around my bedroom, technically, but had a decent post to pin my list to. In that craftsman style house in Seattle that I shared with three others. And nowadays on the wall of the sweet home I share with my beloved in Arizona.
December comes and I feel the itch, that familiar pull to write my list and start dreaming of the year ahead. It is my annual ritual of hope and resilience. I may not have crossed every item off the list the year before, but I see the power in moving the needle just a touch. Looking across the span of the last thirty years (my very own longitudinal study), I see the impact of my resolutions. The biggest accomplishments – starting as a high school drop-out who lived in her car to becoming a college graduate and eventually earning a Master’s Degree – can be traced back to the mindset shifts that appeared on my list, year after year.
Don’t give up.
Quit procrastinating.
Don’t be influenced by the opinions of others.
Establish boundaries.
Show up for others.
It is so easy to get swept up into instant gratification, and in a culture where Insta and the like sends the message that success happens overnight, the truth is that success is often a long burn. It starts with the germination of an idea, a small seed that is watered and nurtured and over time, sprouts new growth and eventually is a bonafide, living thing.
This past year has been a moment of deep, profound personal growth and reflection. Read: it’s been hard, y’all. But here we are, at the start of the new year, my blank page ahead of me, and no matter how hard it has been, I recognize that familiar spark of hope. It’s time to bounce back, and move that needle again, even if it is just a nudge.
Art. Yoga. Adventure. Life on the Road. 