New Year's Day. The day that we wake with aching heads and vow to start things over, do things differently for the next 365 days. We resolve to be nicer, to eat less, the share more, and not worry about the little things. We make plans, we start lists, we dream. And then 365 days later, we do it again.
"Whoops! I sure screwed all that up last year. Can I try this again?"
The whole idea of resolutions makes me think about when I played board games with my friends in grade school. Inevitably, during a rousing round of Candyland, someone would always cheat and take two cards rather than one from the pile, quickly glance at them, and then take the best colour option of the two. Immediately, all hell would break loose and we 5 and 6 year old kids would shout and holler and yell CHEATER and the like until someone was crying into their Hawaiian Punch. At which point, said card taker would beg for mercy and demand the all powerful "do-over." The rest of us would continue to squabble until finally giving in and letting the cheater do just that.
"Fine. Do it again. BUT JUST ONE CARD THIS TIME, got it?"
My own resolutions are like that. I jump into the game of starting over with both feet. Possessed to do it right, to win. Crazed good intent paves the way for the growing insanity I call "myself," and sometime in July, I'm usually dreaming of a "do-over." I beg myself for a little slack, a little forgiveness, "I only meant to take one card, I swear."
For 2010, I've pulled out roughly the same list I've had for the past 4 years: be nicer to Hubster, run more, play with the dogs more, yell less, and stop worrying about what other people think. Stop comparing myself to other people who I find funnier, prettier, taller, and the like. Just be, Dig. Just be.
It's New Year's Day. Do-over. Try again. Take another card. Here's your chance.