The Only Resolution I’ve Ever Needed To Make

It’s more simple than I had imagined.

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I struggle with New Year’s resolutions because they always seem so superficial and so empty. In a nutshell: they’re lame. You always have your basic ones that involve some sort of improvement of health and quality-of-life by eating better or exercising more or going to church. Those are the ones that never stick. It’s easy to fail at those.

This New Year’s Eve I opted out of going out into crowds or even into public at all. I felt the need to hunker down and hibernate. I stayed home on a cold, rainy evening underneath blankets in front of my fire, reading books all night and enjoying a 1997 Gloria Ferrer Brut I bought specifically for the night.

My book of choice was Anne Lamott’s Small Victories. The stories are beautiful and human and compassionate. I absolutely devoured them.

They made me revel in the beauty of the world and feel like a tremendous asshole, all at the same time.

Here is a woman who puts it out there. Forget the whole concept of manifesting. She just puts it all out there and let’s life come back. I don’t. I have holed up deep inside myself. I’ve been standing on the sidelines of my own life.

So I took away one overarching lesson from Anne Lamott that has become my resolution for 2019: Give away what you want to receive.

2018 was a horrifically crappy year for me. It was my first year of singlehood after an excruciating divorce and a job loss. I had to learn to find my feet again and it was difficult and I fell down a lot. Like, A LOT.

There were moments in my year that were absolutely rage filled when I didn’t know what to do and had no idea where I was going and how to get rid of the rage. I found writing again as a way to clear the space and cobwebs out of my mind in order to feel like a whole human being again.

Healing is hard and it is painful but it is a worthwhile process. In the process of healing I have not felt myself.

I’ve said things and done things in the last year that have seemed as foreign to myself as if I was hearing it it come out of a stranger’s mouth.

I’m going to become active in my own life. I’m putting shit out there. This doesn’t necessarily mean that every word coming out of my mouth or every word that flows onto paper is going to be one of sweetness and kindness and generosity and compassion. Because… it’s me. I am equal parts sunshine and roses mixed with piss and vinegar. There will still be anger and there will still be frustration. The difference is that I wanted to be constructive. I want it to matter.

If I’m going to feel wonderful, it’s going to be for a reason. If I’m going to feel angry, it will also be for a reason. Putting it out there for me to understand is a process. It’s one I need to undertake.

When we allow words to leave our bodies, they fill voids. The voids may be ours and the voids may be others. But they do the work that they’re supposed to do. I don’t want my words to fail. I want my words to do Yeomans duty.

Here’s the fun part: I have NO idea how to do this. So, I am basically making a resolution that I don’t even necessarily understand or know how to implement. Okay. That’s fine. I’ll figure it out. After all, what fun is having all the answers? This is not going to be easy but I’m up for it. This is the exciting part.

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