聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 Another New Year鈥檚 celebration has come and gone. Champagne corks have been popped, horns have been blown, and hugs, kisses and good wishes exchanged. A myriad of folks have declared that 2017 will be their best year yet and have made resolutions to demonstrate that intention.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 But after all the partying and merry-making has faded away, most of those resolutions will, unfortunately, fall by the wayside within a few weeks, never to be fulfilled. So why is it that we are so terrible at keeping promises to ourselves? Is it because it鈥檚 easier to disappoint ourselves rather than others? Maybe it鈥檚 because we see no significant consequences to breaking a resolution.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Or perhaps it鈥檚 because we tend to overgeneralize our intentions and state them in very vague terms. For instance, instead of pledging to get fit, it might be far simpler and more effective to just plan on using the stairs at work instead of the elevator. Instead of generalizing that we will eat better, it might be more useful to rid our diets of soda pop or ice-cream. Saying 鈥淚 love you鈥� more often to our partners, children and family might be far more rewarding than promising to treat people better. Focussing on specific actions seems to yield better results.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 The Babylonians might have had the right idea when 4,000 years ago they celebrated with an 11-day festival (Wow! That鈥檚 even longer than a traditional Ukrainian wedding!). But once the merriment was done, they would promise their gods they would pay off any debts (no doubt economists would suggest that more Canadians adopt this example).
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 When the Romans determined that January 1 would be the new year (after a calendar change), they asked for forgiveness and promised better conduct in the future. No doubt their belief in the god Janus, a deity with two faces who stood in doorways and arches to symbolically represent looking back to the past and looking ahead to the future, inspired that resolution.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Knights in medieval times reaffirmed their devotion to chivalry without actually making any new commitments, and early Christians also focused on past mistakes and promised to do better. It seems that people throughout the ages have used the new year as an opportunity for self-examination, fresh beginnings and good intentions.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Personally, I have never made resolutions, but have used the occasion as a time to reflect on the past year and take stock of where I am and where I might be heading. But this year is different. This year I have made not so much a resolution as a commitment (to be honest, I think this is just a matter of semantics, but I dislike the term resolution). I didn鈥檛 wait for the beginning of a new year to initiate this goal. It was put into the works in early August, so I am now in the midst of this undertaking. My goal is the completion of the biggest writing project that I have ever attempted, and, truthfully, I am at once filled with anxious trepidation and eager anticipation when I consider the scope and size of the project.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 A lack of planning and analysis of an undertaking are often the forerunners of failure.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 And I have vowed to make this project a success! Therefore, upon careful examination, I have determined that over the course of the next four to five months, I will need to write 1,000 to 2,000 words per day (on average).
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Why do I tell you this? Well, partly because a public declaration of intent usually makes one strive harder to fulfill a resolution, but more so because I will have to make this project my priority. That is why you will see fewer columns from me over the next few months. I will try to keep up, but I know I won鈥檛 be able to do it all.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 To those of you who often stop me and tell me how much you enjoy my articles, thank you! You have given me the inspiration and confidence to forge ahead on a new endeavour. I hope you will continue to cheer me on.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Happy new year, everyone!聽
