I used to look forward to a new year for its redemptive value. The turning of the calendar year was the ultimate blank slate for me – 365 days worth of pure white squares. Everything would be different (ie. better) and I would have the date marked as the moment everything changed. I think there was a list of New Year’s Resolutions from when I was 9 or 10 that actually listed: 10. Be perfect. (The best was always saved for last.)
In my 20’s, each new year was attacked with a plan to achieve the endless goals I had set. Literally, 10 pages in my journal were dedicated to the books I would read, the food I’d eat (or not), the new skills I’d acquire, the healthy habits I’d develop (okay, I did learn to like soy), and most importantly, the structure that would enable all this to occur.
As I neared the end of that decade, I started to add character qualities to that checklist without being aware that I was doing that. I’d just think about the people I admired, try to figure out what made them they way they were and how I could be that way too. The first of those traits was creativity. That was the common thread in all the character composites I had pieced together, and it never occured to me that what I sought after might change. That was what I wanted to be when I grew up.
I knew something was changing when I started wanting wisdom. 30 hit and I noticed that there were people around me who had some big chunks of life figured out. But the trick is that you can’t go out and just pick up some wisdom like you would a box of soy milk. There’s not a continuing education class at the local community college that can give you wisdom instruction in 12 weeks – no Wisdom for Dummies at Amazon.com. It just has to seep in. So I couldn’t craft wisdom-based goals and timelines. Contrary to my I’ve-got-a-plan-all-figured-out self, I had to step back from my lists and wait. And in the waiting, I experienced freedom from all the lists – freedom to simply experience life as it came my way. Life became more fun when I wasn’t trying to control the outcome.
Now, well into my 30’s, I’m understanding (finally) that perfection isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Not only is it impossible to achieve (I really didn’t get that before), but it’s miserable trying. There was no joy in the journey of trying to become a flawless human being. All those things that I thought would make me one of those people that other people would try to figure out, never got me there.
So here I am at the end of a year, happier than I’ve ever been, without a resolution in sight.
