I’ve been waiting on myself to begin. I knew it was time to get back to this and I knew it was time for a shift. I shut down the old blog, bought a new name, and created a new site. A new chapter. But how to begin, Becca, how to start. The pressure. Y’all are like,...
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I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. Not because I don’t need an infusion of life changes over here (because that list would be a novella), but because I can’t stomach the pressure of it all. All the self-improvement resolution talk makes me tense. I feel like a tween girl who ate a basket of garlic bread for dinner and now finds herself at a Spin the Bottle party. I’m jealous of the people playing, but this just isn’t going to work for me tonight. How do I get out of this party and back to Downton Abbey with some breath mints where I belong?
The thought of resolutions made me so uncomfortable yesterday that I told myself that it was December 32nd. I woke up today to January 2. Hooray, I made up a day and missed the New Year! Genius or next-level denial, you choose.
I don’t approach change by scribbling on a cocktail napkin at 11:58pm on December 31. I am so totally and completely envious of those of you who can do this, who can pen off life-changing resolutions like a last-minute grocery list without experiencing ulcer-like pain in your abdomen, but it’s sure not me. I am a life-change tortoise. Slow and steady, not ever entirely certain that the actual goal up ahead is what I should be aiming for.
Resolutions are so concrete, so full of commitment, and involve so much, I’ll just say it, resolve. “I resolve to lose ten pounds.” Really, how can I possibly promise to do that? What if I am met with the world’s largest and most delicious circle of brie mid-February? No way can I commit. Because brie! The future is so uncertain, awesome cheeses and all, it feels downright irresponsible of me to resolve to do anything.
So maybe this year, I resolve not to resolve, but to allow room for the possibility of random and intermittent cheese presentations that I might meet, unexpectedly, along the way. Yeah. I can get behind this.
THEREFORE, in 2016, my resolution is to know that I will be detoured from my current goals by changing plans and circumstances, by rocks and boulders, and, hey, even by that fantastically huge wheel of brie. I know that this coming year will bring surprises and delays, and I will be forced to veer off of my path now and again. But keeping with the (really, really silly) cheese metaphor – YUM, right? I’m going to do my best to get past the irritation of being detoured, move beyond the panic of what-do-I-do-now, and sit down, grab some bread and olives, and have an unexpected cheese feast. My resolution is to accept the unexpected, y’all.
Happy New Year. May all your roadblocks in 2016 make for a really, really good queso.
Oh I love every single thing about this. Here, here!!
I’m the same. No new year resolutions for me. I haven’t made any in years now. What’s the point in setting yourself up to fail. That’s no way no to start a new year 😉
Love this post!
Cheese is milk’s leap toward immortality.