You say you wanna resolution

The practice of making New Year's resolutions has fallen out of vogue in recent years, it seems.  K, for one, will have nothing to do with them, and I can understand why: making commitments that one is most likely not going to keep can be a pointless and frustrating endeavor.  I know this, and yet I can't help but buy into the cheesy custom year after year, with mixed results.

The trick to avoiding disappointment, I've found, is to keep the resolutions realistic.  If I were to resolve to lose 30 pounds in 2007, it would be as ridiculous and far-fetched as if I vowed to win the Iditarod.  It's simply not going to happen, so why bother?  But when I resolved a few years back to cook more meals at home, the result was the addition of some fairly passable Italian and Lebanese dishes to my culinary repertoire.  While the fruits of this resolution might not threaten to put any Italian or Lebanese restaurants out of business, K and I have managed to save money that would otherwise have been spent dining out.

The other key to making effective resolutions is to aim high (within reason, of course), but don't beat yourself up if you fall short of your mark.  So I resolved to buy a house last year, and this year we're still renting.  So what?  We took a homeownership counseling class, we've gotten ourselves out of debt, and we're making more money than we used to, so it's not like we spent the last year spinning our wheels.  We'll see what next year holds.  I contend that we're better off for having set that goal than we would have been had we just refused to think about it.

A Zen teacher of mine told us a great story about the value of setting goals.  A man was arrested and falsely charged with murder.  Despite his protestations of innocence, he was condemned to be executed at dawn.  Resigned to his fate, he called for a Buddhist priest to give him comfort him in his last hours.  The priest told him that if he recited the prayer to the Bodhisattva of Compassion 12,000 times before dawn, he would be released.  The condemned man stared at the priest in confusion and terror, since the night was already half gone and there was no way that he would be able to get through that many repetitions of the Enmei before the sun rose on the day of his execution.  Nevertheless, he bowed to the priest and began chanting.  He had only gotten to the 4,000th repitition when the cold light of dawn broke into his cell and he heard the jailer's key turning in the iron door.  With one final prostration on the cold stone floor, he rose and turned to meet his fate, only to find that the door was open and he was free to go.

I've always loved that story.  It tells us that there is inherent worth to aspiration itself, apart from the expected results.  It also tells us that we live in the midst of an tremendous mystery --  that we "are in an unfathomable, all is in an enormous dark /Drowned," to quote Hopkins -- and that we don't know where the labyrinthine corridors of our lives will eventually carry us.  So why not set a goal, and see where you end up with it?

With that, here are my resolutions for 2007:

To finish grad school.  The only thing standing between me and that %#@!& master's degree is one final project, and since this is the last year I can sign up for it before having to reapply to the whole %#@!& program all over again, I'm going to get the thing done once and for all, dagnabit.

To walk more.  Again, I'm not talking about running the Baltimore Marathon or anything.  I'm just going to see if I can work my way up to those 10,000 steps per day that are supposed to be so healthy for me.

To keep in better touch with old friends.  This is a toughie for me, I have to admit.  As a kid I became so accustomed to waving goodbye to my friends every couple of years that it's made me awful about staying in touch.  The older I get, the more I see the value of good friends, so I'm going to do my best to respond to e-mails more promptly, send more birthday cards, and pick up the phone more often.  If you're one of my friends, beware.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

To pick up the guitar again.  K bought me a great starter classical guitar for my birthday years ago, and all I have to show for it is a coat of dust and a halting Travis pick.  This year, I want to learn to play "Storms are on the Ocean," or at least pluck an arpeggio without it sounding like I'm strangling a cat.

To do the Flickr 365 Days project - for real this time.  The last time I started the one-self-portrait-per-day-for-one-year thing, it lasted about a week.  This year I'm determined to stick with it, no matter how bored I get with my own face.

See?  I'm on my way.

Happy 2007 to all.

Comments

[Elizabeth]

I really like that story.

Happy New Year.

[jackie]

I came here from Elizabeth's blog and was pleasantly surprised to find another Baltimore blogger, especially one quoting Hopkins, one of my favorite poets when it comes to spiritual matters ("Pied Beauty" is one of my favorites to teach).

Happy New Year, and good luck with your ongoing work, both spiritual and otherwise!

[Quev]

Hi Jackie, Happy New Year to you also, and thanks for stopping by. Hopkins leaves me in awe. I love whispering his poems aloud to myself, just to get my tongue around those neologisms and tricky rhythms.