I love a fresh start. The newly opened crayons at the beginning of the school year. The carefully vacuumed carpet in a new home. The hip new hairdo after chopping off lifeless locks. Fresh starts feel good. They carry with them the hope that things will improve. I will be better than I have been before. Wiser. More appreciative. More productive. Superior to my former self in every possible way. You know what? I will be. And you will, too.
People love to make fun of New Year’s resolutions. They cynically assume that none of us will live up to our promises. We won’t lose a thousand pounds or gain a thousand dollars, so let’s just laugh off New Year’s resolutions and pretend we don’t care.
I do care. I have to believe that new years themselves exist for a reason – to remind us that fresh starts are possible. New beginnings occur constantly in nature: the first buds of spring, the monthly regeneration of skin cells, the Earth venturing out for yet another brave journey around the sun. The year 2016 is a new beginning for us all, so let’s treat it as such.
As I tiptoe into 2016, I’m reminded of a quote that hung in an old frame above my grandma’s guest bed. You’ve probably heard it before: Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Ruminating on that thought as a child, I felt suddenly absolved of any past transgressions. I am worthy of a fresh beginning, ripe with forgiveness and forward thinking. Somehow all the times I’ve messed up – spoken unkindly, failed to be patient, told a lie – shrivel up with each new sunrise. I can start again. That’s what the sunrise is here to tell me.
Yet, even with the swell of hope that accompanies each calendar year, why do most of us fail to keep our resolutions past mid-January? Perhaps the problem is that we’re biting off more than we can chew. I will work out every day, and I will only eat healthy food. That sounds like an awful idea to me. With some tweaking, our goals become much less daunting and much more human. If I have enough sleep, I will work out three times a week, and I’ll eat vegetables more often. Let’s cut ourselves some slack. After all, it’s improvement, not perfection, we’re after, right?
As for me, this likely won’t be the year I perfect my home decor, become a master of meditation, or hike the Grand Canyon. But this might be the year I read in the evenings, purely for pleasure (if I have enough sleep) and listen with empathy to loved ones without interrupting them (more often).
Happy New Year, moms. Allow yourself the fresh start.
