For all my years on the planet, 52, there are still times when experience is no teacher—or when futility seems to be my master. Nowhere is this more true than in my annual list of New Year’s resolutions. (It is a relief to know that I am not alone in this one.) Many of us share the idea that with an annual tick-tock-bank, we can fashion ourselves anew by resolving to achieve certain goals.
In some ways, my approach to making resolutions echoes the Lenten period of my Catholic girlhood: in those days, I could give up something for 40 days, and in doing so, would become closer to my faith. Perhaps that early experience is still the force that leads me to making resolutions that are at once modest and narcissistic. My resolutions tend to contain some combination of activities that, if only I could achieve them, would lead to meaningful change. (more…)