Make no little plans.

They have no magic to stir men’s blood.

-Daniel Burnham

Every year I see tons of posts about how people are forgoing New Year’s resolutions. Rather than set themselves up for disappointment, they say, they are setting goals. But not just goals; achievable goals, series of small steps so they can congratulate themselves along the way.

I understand the reasoning behind this, but it’s not for me.

I also see people saying that January 1st is just a day, that they set goals for themselves throughout the year; daily, weekly, monthly. That it’s silly to give so much weight to a day like any other day.

Again, I understand. But I don’t agree.

I like the ritual of the thing; the standing with one foot in 2011 and one in 2012; the collective consciousness looking back and taking stock of what worked and what didn’t, the successes and the failures; the collective looking forward with renewed hope and ambition.

We don’t do it enough. We don’t look back through the recent chapters of our lives to see the cycles, the lessons, the karmic flow. We don’t give ourselves enough chances to dream big and let our hearts soar.

We spend January 1 walking through our lives,
room by room,
drawing up a list of work to be done,
cracks to be patched.

Maybe this year, to balance the list,
we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives…
not looking for flaws,
but for potential.

-Ellen Goodman

Yesterday, New Year’s Eve, was an extremely difficult one for me, for a number of reasons yet for no real reason. I just wanted it to be over as soon as it started.

Yesterday I wore my father’s sweater. He had maybe a dozen that were functionally identical, and I kept one after he died. Usually it just sits in my closet and every so often I pat it, for reassurance, but yesterday was bad enough that I wore it. Why? I don’t really know. To feel like he was still with me, I guess. For strength. I laid it on my nightstand when I went to bed and when I woke this morning I no longer needed it. Odd, I know, but significant enough that I feel compelled to mention it.

I spent today thinking about 2011 and trying to make big, blood-stirring plans for 2012.

I’m having a hard time.

You see, in retrospect 2011 was a wonderful year for me. When I stop to think about it, I learned a great many things, one of which was the value of what I already knew.

I ended the year with a job I enjoy, at a pay I am happy with, working with people I admire.

I made many new, supportive friends, and reconnected with the ones I missed.

I have few regrets and bear no grudges.

What I realized upon reflection was this:

• that many of the targets I failed to hit were because I was afraid to try.

• that much of the heartache and trouble I suffered was the result of my own dark thinking.

Without getting into it: I’ve had many craptastic things happen, and I have been soul-shatteringly destroyed by people I loved and trusted. As a result I hold everyone at arm’s length, I am always prepared for the worst, I have a terrible time taking anything at face value, and I’m perpetually convinced that today will be the day that I eff everything up beyond all semblance of repair.

This makes me a great person to have around when things go wrong; I am very calm in the face of calamity.

It makes me not so much fun when things go right. I don’t know how to behave.

Today I realized how stupid that is.

Life has a tendency to go right. 

And I’m missing out because I’m waiting for it to go wrong.

Intentions compressed into words enfold magical power.
-Deepak Chopra

I know that I’m supposed to be very specific with my intentions. That providence moves once a commitment is made; that the road becomes more clear.

The thing is, my road isn’t half bad. I’ve just been nervous about seeing what lies at the end of it.

My resolution is this: to get out of my own damn way.

To do the things that I secretly think I can.

To try and let the chips fall where they may.

To hear words that are being said, without feeling the echos of past sadnesses that have nothing to do with today.

To trust that things really are as good as they appear to be.

To others this may seem like a little thing. I assure you, to me it is huge and frightening.

It’s standing at a precipice.

Watch me take this first step. It’s a doozy.

It’s a long way down… that just means I have plenty of time to build wings, right?