I began this meandering on January 1, 2015, or 1B.B. (before Baby)
It is very quiet out in the world and in the house. Were it not for my cat Duncan eating his dry cat food and the furnace kicking on and off, it would be virtually silent. But in my head, things are never quiet. I woke up and looked out the bedroom window and fully appreciated the fact that the etch-a-sketch of life had been shaken. New day, New Year--perfect.
A stiff walk down our stairs and the realization of bones getting older, the inevitable. Duncan greeting me at the foot of the stairs served to say "there are constants in life." The sun slowing rising through the corner of the kitchen window hiding behind our oak tree reinforces that idea.
I used to finish off years by staying up well past midnight writing down resolutions, sealing them in #10 envelopes, and putting them in a drawer to be opened the next New Year. It was a test of resolve, I suppose. I figured that if I opened the envelope and I had accomplished my resolutions, they had been worth doing. If not, I chalked it up to a flight of fancy. More often than not, though, I was depressed by the results.
So I do not make resolutions anymore. In fact, I am loathed to making goals of any kind. It seems to me that making resolutions or goals is pretty egotistical, presuming that you know what is the most important thing for you to do with your time without knowing what may be coming up the pike. But, if not that, then what? If you aren't making plans for your life, who then? I didn't say I have it all figured out.
In my defense, I still do make short-term plans and to-do lists and have a schedule. I'm not completely daft. But I also don't mind having a free-flowing day where what happens is what happened. I find it wonderful to be surprised by where the day takes me. Whether it is helping a random person, reading an article, or making something out the ingredients in our refrigerator, I am happy for the discovery of it.
In fact, when I look back at last evening, while my wife Betsy and I were celebrating the countdown to the New Year, I was at peace that we had no formal plans. We enjoyed a couple of movies and a TV series we bumped into on Hulu and Netflix. We ate delicious food that we went to the grocery store earlier in the day to pick out. Duncan, Betsy, and I spread out on the couch and bathed in the warmth of a roaring fire that I cobbled together with what we had in the house. We listened to random selections of Crosby, Stills, and Nash, and other similar artists that Pandora mixed for us and turned in slightly after midnight. It was an altogether lovely night.
I realize that I am fortunate and have a lot more free time than most. I admire people who are productive and full of plans for their lives. But I wouldn't trade my approach to life for it. The only resolution that I have ever stuck with, and it tickles me to say it, is I resolved not to make resolutions and am so much happier for it. I am looking forward to how the next year goes. I have no idea what it may bring, but I am happy to see it unfold.
It is very quiet out in the world and in the house. Were it not for my cat Duncan eating his dry cat food and the furnace kicking on and off, it would be virtually silent. But in my head, things are never quiet. I woke up and looked out the bedroom window and fully appreciated the fact that the etch-a-sketch of life had been shaken. New day, New Year--perfect.
A stiff walk down our stairs and the realization of bones getting older, the inevitable. Duncan greeting me at the foot of the stairs served to say "there are constants in life." The sun slowing rising through the corner of the kitchen window hiding behind our oak tree reinforces that idea.
I used to finish off years by staying up well past midnight writing down resolutions, sealing them in #10 envelopes, and putting them in a drawer to be opened the next New Year. It was a test of resolve, I suppose. I figured that if I opened the envelope and I had accomplished my resolutions, they had been worth doing. If not, I chalked it up to a flight of fancy. More often than not, though, I was depressed by the results.
So I do not make resolutions anymore. In fact, I am loathed to making goals of any kind. It seems to me that making resolutions or goals is pretty egotistical, presuming that you know what is the most important thing for you to do with your time without knowing what may be coming up the pike. But, if not that, then what? If you aren't making plans for your life, who then? I didn't say I have it all figured out.
In my defense, I still do make short-term plans and to-do lists and have a schedule. I'm not completely daft. But I also don't mind having a free-flowing day where what happens is what happened. I find it wonderful to be surprised by where the day takes me. Whether it is helping a random person, reading an article, or making something out the ingredients in our refrigerator, I am happy for the discovery of it.
In fact, when I look back at last evening, while my wife Betsy and I were celebrating the countdown to the New Year, I was at peace that we had no formal plans. We enjoyed a couple of movies and a TV series we bumped into on Hulu and Netflix. We ate delicious food that we went to the grocery store earlier in the day to pick out. Duncan, Betsy, and I spread out on the couch and bathed in the warmth of a roaring fire that I cobbled together with what we had in the house. We listened to random selections of Crosby, Stills, and Nash, and other similar artists that Pandora mixed for us and turned in slightly after midnight. It was an altogether lovely night.
I realize that I am fortunate and have a lot more free time than most. I admire people who are productive and full of plans for their lives. But I wouldn't trade my approach to life for it. The only resolution that I have ever stuck with, and it tickles me to say it, is I resolved not to make resolutions and am so much happier for it. I am looking forward to how the next year goes. I have no idea what it may bring, but I am happy to see it unfold.
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