Me? I’ve lost two pounds.
Or, you know, it’s possible that what with my eyes not fully recovered from cataract surgery, I may have fiddled incorrectly with that little knob that sets the scale to zero.
As for the cussing. Well, you know how that went.
Still, I believe resolutions can be good and powerful. It’s all in the definition of the word. I think of them more as goals, an opportunity to examine my life and make a clear delineation between those actions I want to encourage and those I want to discourage. We all know the parallel about feeding the wolf we want to prosper. Right? A goal is something to aim for, not a point at which we have already arrived.
So, I don’t beat myself up for failing to keep my resolutions. Well, okay, I beat myself up a little, but I do my best to dust myself off and continue to stride, stumble, crawl toward the long-term goal.
A long time ago, I overheard a conversation between my husband, Jack, and a good friend of his, Tim. At forty years of age, the two men were comparing life goals. Tim brought up the subject. No surprise there. Jack’s more of a short-term, day-to-day kind of guy. So, Tim, with a doctorate in education, shared how he’d like to make a difference in the equality of the educational system in our country, to change the way we evaluate intellect and the way we teach, to make education less culturally biased.
Jack studied his friend while Tim ruminated on his life’s work.
“My life’s goal,” Jack said, “is to sleep with a woman from every country in the world.”
Twenty-five years later, it’s a bit of a toss-up as to which man has come closer to meeting his life goal, but my point is, the goal, the resolution defined the trip, and that’s what life is all about, right? Not the destination, but the journey.