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Resolutions 2008
Jan. 2nd, 2008 02:24 amI’ll turn 38 this year. I grow tired of looking back and wishing that I had done something or other at some earlier point in my life. I hate the feeling that I have squandered too many of my precious time on earth with meaningless crap and that I have nothing to show for it all. In 2006, I chose a life for myself with Millari, found a steady job, bought a beautiful house and took in another cat. In 2007 I rolled along in the ruts I laid down. It’s been, in so many ways, a good year. There have been a lot of small triumphs, and no tragedies—no dead loved ones, no horrible accidents, no gloomy diagnoses. I may well look back on this past year as the last year in which I can say that. So many people live lives of misery and hardship, and I, so far, have not.
Yet I can’t claim what I most wish, that I can look back on a year and know that I seized the moments as best I could, that instead of bemoaning the things I could have or should have done as a younger man, or the opportunities that got away from me in years past, I stepped up to the plate and took my best swing at the pitches this year has to offer.
To do that, I must do the following:
1) Face my fears. For example, I’m nearly 40. So is M. We can’t wait much longer to have children, but I dread giving up all the free time that I’m wasting. I don’t feel like I have found what I really want to do with my life. I haven’t found my purpose. I haven’t decided what I think my life is really for. I haven’t followed my bliss, as Joseph Campbell put it (at least not consistently.) I have spent much of my life avoiding things I didn’t want to do, and holding off from trying things that might prove interesting, largely because I didn’t want to be defined by my failures and poor choices. Now, however, I think I have defined myself through my inertia. I once started a post by quoting Dante: “Half-way through life’s journey, I was lost in a dark wood, where the straight way was lost.” Sadly, it’s clear that my circle of the Inferno isn’t even a circle. I’m part of the Host of nebbishes who sweep endlessly about the outskirts just inside the gate, damned not for choosing any particular evil, but rather for failing to choose good. This must change. I must face my fears this year.
2) Demand more of M. It’s my biggest fear, really: that she’ll leave me; that she’ll reject me for who I choose to be. It’s apt that Love Will Tear Us Apart plays as I type this. M and I have become very comfortable in our relationship, and that’s a good thing in many ways, but it’s become too safe. We don’t challenge each other, and so we’re not growing as people. I know it’s not an easy thing to do, and that it could lead us to ruin, but if we don’t, then I might as well have kept living with B, and she might as well have stayed with her first husband.
3) Risk failure at least a dozen times this year. At least once every month, pick a goal, set a time frame, and go for it. Learn to accept success and failure. Enjoy the former and overcome the latter. Lots of people do it, so I can, too.
That’s it. The rest is specifics, and while they will matter in moments to come, right here and now, they don’t. What matters right now is that I publicly state that these are my resolutions for this year. This is the standard to which I will hold myself, and to which I hope my friends will hold me, as well. I’ll discuss writing or jobs or marital stuff next time.
Today, I slept late to overcome the cold I was fighting off yesterday. I wrote a bit of a story that I’m writing with my friend Interesting in Atlanta. Then I got up, made a fire, and did some tidying in the kitchen before getting M to come out and shovel the driveway with me. Then I went inside, had a shower, and come out to find that our guests—Raf, Carole, Stacey and their pal Morgan—had arrived. We chatted for a bit, and I did some cooking then set the beef stew on the stove to simmer. Then we sat down and watched the BSG mini-series from 2003 (which was the first time for all of the ladies), with breaks for cookies, stew, cake, drinks and chatter. We also watched the first episode of the show. Then, around 9:30, we bade farewell to our friends, M started writing and watched the end of Kill Bill part 2 (which was so much more interesting than part 1, I wonder why Tarantino bothered to release it), and then I started writing myself, winding up with this post.
And now it’s 2 AM, so I should go to bed. Au revoir, mes amis.
A good first day.
Yet I can’t claim what I most wish, that I can look back on a year and know that I seized the moments as best I could, that instead of bemoaning the things I could have or should have done as a younger man, or the opportunities that got away from me in years past, I stepped up to the plate and took my best swing at the pitches this year has to offer.
To do that, I must do the following:
1) Face my fears. For example, I’m nearly 40. So is M. We can’t wait much longer to have children, but I dread giving up all the free time that I’m wasting. I don’t feel like I have found what I really want to do with my life. I haven’t found my purpose. I haven’t decided what I think my life is really for. I haven’t followed my bliss, as Joseph Campbell put it (at least not consistently.) I have spent much of my life avoiding things I didn’t want to do, and holding off from trying things that might prove interesting, largely because I didn’t want to be defined by my failures and poor choices. Now, however, I think I have defined myself through my inertia. I once started a post by quoting Dante: “Half-way through life’s journey, I was lost in a dark wood, where the straight way was lost.” Sadly, it’s clear that my circle of the Inferno isn’t even a circle. I’m part of the Host of nebbishes who sweep endlessly about the outskirts just inside the gate, damned not for choosing any particular evil, but rather for failing to choose good. This must change. I must face my fears this year.
2) Demand more of M. It’s my biggest fear, really: that she’ll leave me; that she’ll reject me for who I choose to be. It’s apt that Love Will Tear Us Apart plays as I type this. M and I have become very comfortable in our relationship, and that’s a good thing in many ways, but it’s become too safe. We don’t challenge each other, and so we’re not growing as people. I know it’s not an easy thing to do, and that it could lead us to ruin, but if we don’t, then I might as well have kept living with B, and she might as well have stayed with her first husband.
3) Risk failure at least a dozen times this year. At least once every month, pick a goal, set a time frame, and go for it. Learn to accept success and failure. Enjoy the former and overcome the latter. Lots of people do it, so I can, too.
That’s it. The rest is specifics, and while they will matter in moments to come, right here and now, they don’t. What matters right now is that I publicly state that these are my resolutions for this year. This is the standard to which I will hold myself, and to which I hope my friends will hold me, as well. I’ll discuss writing or jobs or marital stuff next time.
Today, I slept late to overcome the cold I was fighting off yesterday. I wrote a bit of a story that I’m writing with my friend Interesting in Atlanta. Then I got up, made a fire, and did some tidying in the kitchen before getting M to come out and shovel the driveway with me. Then I went inside, had a shower, and come out to find that our guests—Raf, Carole, Stacey and their pal Morgan—had arrived. We chatted for a bit, and I did some cooking then set the beef stew on the stove to simmer. Then we sat down and watched the BSG mini-series from 2003 (which was the first time for all of the ladies), with breaks for cookies, stew, cake, drinks and chatter. We also watched the first episode of the show. Then, around 9:30, we bade farewell to our friends, M started writing and watched the end of Kill Bill part 2 (which was so much more interesting than part 1, I wonder why Tarantino bothered to release it), and then I started writing myself, winding up with this post.
And now it’s 2 AM, so I should go to bed. Au revoir, mes amis.
A good first day.
