Here we are approaching February; on its doorstep really. Which leads me to reflect yet again on the folly of annual New Year’s Resolutions. I mean, really, how many of us make pledges to shed pounds, exercise more, be a better person, call our parents or children (or both) more often, and on and on . . . only to find by this time of the very first month of that promising new year that we are right back to our usual pattern?
Sound familiar? Sure does to me. So here is what I’ve come to embrace: Living more intentionally every single day in hopes that there is less to be in consternation about at year-end. And therefore fewer things to try and “re-focus” every January.
Sure, I undergo periodic self-assessment. I consider it my own little “continuous quality improvement cycle,” which all my corporate friends can identify with–thus providing me fodder for the next social interaction. And I reset my direction now and again, adjust the sails, tend the tiller . . . you get the idea. BUT, I am spared facing the end of January in dread of realizing I’ve failed yet again.
Resolutions. Bah Humbug!