No New Year’s resolutions for me this year. No thanks. Resolutions and I are (mostly) through.
I concede that New Year’s Day feels like a fresh start. That fresh start feeling is so motivating, it’s no wonder people resolve to become fitter, phatter, healthier, more financially stable, and the like.
I’m not going to pretend like I’m not personally motivated by the anticipation of what is possible in this brand new year.
There are things that I know could make me a better person, a healthier person, a more loving person, a more successful person, and all-around less of an asshole.
I could give up sugar, take more steps in a day, hug 12 people every day, make regular charitable contributions, cut back on coffee, dress better, eat more leafy greens, do more yoga, floss, stop yelling in traffic, read more non-fiction, etc, etc, etc. . .
And I should do those things, but. . .
using January 1 as the launch date of Me 2.0 is setting me up for failure.
And here’s why:
Say I set a goal to go for a walk every day 2016
1. Slipping up feels like a failure – And it is. When I miss my walk on January 8th, that’s it. I failed.
2. If I fall off the wagon I need to wait until next year to get back on – I already failed my resolution, I might as well just sit on the couch for the rest of 2016.
Here’s the thing. If you want to make a fresh start you don’t have to wait for January 1. You don’t have to wait for a new month, or a new week, or a new morning. . .
. . . keep narrowing down those intervals and you realize that time is just an arbitrary thing. Every single moment is brand new the opportunity for a fresh start. Every single breath you take is a reminder that you are alive and that a new moment is here and ready for you. In that new moment you can be the person you want to be or make the choice you want to make.
You don’t have to be held to the standard of the person you were last year, or yesterday, or on your last inhale breath. You are always someone new. And that new person can be Me 2.0, launching now. And now. And now. And now. . .