Resolutions In High Resolution

Barbara: Aw, okay, I just used that title for word-ly effect. Forgive me. Should I resolve never to write another affected title again?

(Well, I won’t, and you can’t make me.)

Anyway, here’s the thing: I do think regularly shifting our perspective and resolving to do things in healthier, more beneficial ways is really important. But I worry about New Year’s Resolutions. I worry about one-shot deals. About “failing” at the end of the long year and then feeling like a failure. About the long-term looseness of a once-a-year oath, in that there are 365 tomorrows to which we can postpone our commitment to walking more/eating better/being nicer. The New Year’s Resolution is just so GRAND a gesture.

I’ve started to believe that we are just better off if we make New Day's Resolutions.

You know, like, Every Day.

This is the day I do something nice for myself. This is the day I don’t sit at my computer for 8 hours straight. This is the day I cook meals for my friend-in-need. I still may not get around to doing it, but the thought is fresh in my mind. The goal way more immediate. And usually more attainable because I have to resolve something I believe I can do in that one day—not over the course of 52 weeks full of them.

Here’s what I like to do instead on New Year’s Eve (no, not party madly, drink profusely, paint the town, or stay up till dawn, although those can all be fun in the right situations): I like to do the year-in-review. The backward glance over what actually worked. That way I can guarantee myself a hearty pat on the back instead of guilt-ridden chocolate binging.

So here goes. My happiness in a nutshell.

I want to acknowledge that for all intents and purposes, I have done all I can by my daughters this year. I know they will always be a going concern re their wellbeing and happiness, but they are not my “job” anymore. And they turned out unbelievably awesome.

I would like to announce a true shift in my sense of joy and acceptance. More than ever, stuff just rolls off my back. And nothing is the worse for it. In fact, everything is the better. I am less stressed, less neurotic, and less … disappointed. It may not last, but this is something I will continue to resolve on a daily basis.

I want to proclaim my undying love for my husband, with whom I have been through a helluva lot over the years and, thanks to our mutual commitment to being vigilant about acceptance and curiosity, our lives are sweeter and lighter and more wonderful than they were ten years ago.

I want to express amazement that I have created and nurtured no less than six creative projects this year, all of them at risk of being tossed aside due to personal frustrations, and yet all of them still breathing and still being nurtured through to next stages.

And most of all, I want to bow to this community of like-minded, loving, intelligent, spunky (my girls always wanted to be called “spunky”, so consider it high praise), awesome, adorable and just AMAZING blog readers. You have helped nurture my spirit even when I didn’t think I had it in me. You have upheld my firmly believed truth that people aren’t just blandly curious about each other, but care enormously and passionately for a greater good.

Thanks to this wonderful assortment of surprising Old Year Developments, I find myself here celebrating the coming year with optimism and strength. Thank you all!!! And happy, happy New Year to each and every one of you!!!

The Fam in the Old Year
(and PS, yes, that's me adorned in mini lights and tree garland *shrug*)

Deb: I love this idea, Barb.

I have made over our bloggie time together many proclamations in honour of husband, boy, friends, parents, and bloggers.  Riffing off your idea, I would like to kick off 2012 honouring my dear friend and writing partner, the lovely Barbara. She is, first and foremost, a treat to look at. I do not say this lightly or even jokingly. She is beautiful and her inner beauty shines so brightly through her gorgeous packaging that she is always a feast for the eyes. She exudes creativity, love without judgment, and kindness. She is a patient and loving ear, whose advice is always couched in "this may not be right for you" or "maybe you have already thought of this but..." and yet it invariably opens up a part of the scenario I had not quite grasped on my own. Barb personifies constructive criticism. She could teach a course. It has been an emotional roller coaster this year for me. She has been a huge part in my emotional rescue.  

I love you, Barb.