Nah Year's Resolutions

At the risk of sounding like a Grinch… I never make New Year’s resolutions.

It just seems so arbitrary to pick January 1 to make major changes in one’s life. If something is worth doing—indeed, if it’s worthy enough to merit a pledge—then surely it’s worth doing on April 25, July 19, or whatever date you make your decision.

Plus, does anyone really keep their New Year’s resolutions? Does anybody heroically turn over a new leaf on 1/1 and make it permanent? Or do we declare resolutions just to make ourselves feel good?

The internet is full of well-intentioned New Year’s resolution templates and tracker apps. However, the meme-generating wizards appear to share my cynicism:

I do enjoy the holiday season. I celebrate Christmas in a secular sort of way, with emphasis on generosity, goodwill, the marking of the solstice with a tree covered in bling, and the eating of delicious fattening treats.

So every year I make about seventeen thousand cookies and then drive around delivering them to various groups of friends like some sort of deranged elf. Call it a hobby.

It’s not just about the goodies, though. When I drop off the stuff, I stay and chat for a bit. I wish them a happy season, give hugs, drink tea, catch up on their lives.

Yesterday, my neighbor chattered to me about her fledgling fashion business, as we stood surrounded by boxes full of newly arrived inventory waiting to be sorted and priced. Her kids, who appeared to be spending their entire winter break in pajamas just like my kids, made off with the plate of cookies immediately. We laughed about how we’d both driven our kids to school recently because we wanted that extra 15 minutes of sleep/coffee/slippers instead of trudging out to wait in the cold for the school bus. “Maybe in January we’ll get them on the bus!” we joked.

Today, one friend, in between bites of chocolate whiskey truffle balls, talked to me about her novel, the one she’s written five chapters of. How she was dreading the holidays because it meant fewer freelance assignments and a tight budget, but then she realized she’d have more free time and could write a couple more chapters. We made plans to attend our next writing group meeting together. “Here’s to more writing in 2020!” she said as I was leaving.

Another friend, who has had more than his share of health problems recently, seemed delighted to have a plate full of orange cheesecake and a short visit. “More social time and hanging out in the new year!” we vowed as we said goodbye.

And I realized it’s not just about me. If the approaching new year is making people reflect on what’s important to them, who am I to rain on that parade? If I can help someone else achieve their goals, why wouldn’t I, particularly when I share those goals?

So I’m here for it all, even as I roll my eyes about the randomness of January 1. And if they decide on September 7 that they want to quit smoking, join that gym, or start that memoir, I’ll be there for that too.