For many years, I have loved the allure of “new year, new me.”
This fascination dates back to my childhood when the New Year was second in excitement only to the anticipation of a new academic school year. I imagined a year ahead of fulfilled aspirations. I kept long lists of the resolutions that would get me there: new hairstyles and makeup looks, an organized and beautiful bedroom, a clean purse, a tidy jewellery box, exciting new friendships, and perhaps even a relationship with someone special.
Fast forward to adulthood, where the desire to begin anew in January was tempered only by many years of unmet hopes, expectations, and broken resolutions. I carried on bravely, list in hand, until a recent realization. Yes, I would always have lists, goals, and aspirations, but could I work on them without tying them solely to the new year or making them synonymous with January 1?
Could I ease into the new year with desires and hopes that would not be a source of frustration by February 1? Could I lean in without the self-flagellation of front-loading the year and determining that a daily walk was best taken up in the dead of winter?
What if I chose a more compassionate route? What if, instead of hoping for a rebirth in a few weeks, I could gradually clarify my annual goals, building on small steps and achievements and taking time to learn along the way? Could I accept myself and make incremental changes in my attitudes and behaviours that would eventually benefit my health and lifestyle?
Maybe it doesn’t amount to being better but being different. Being myself, making different choices and decisions, and putting in place the support needed. Instead of ‘shiny object syndrome,’ I could work with my current routines, personality traits and tendencies to “try softer, not harder.”
A gentle new year, hopes and dreams in place as always, with more breathing room for new year, same me.
Don’t try harder, try softer.