I Resolve to Not Resolve.
I solemnly swear that I will not set a fake ass New Years' resolution for 2025.
Do you have goals and big fuckin’ dreams? Same. And of course, I want this to be the year that I truly begin to make that shit happen. But the way that I am inconsistent, about literally everything, is absolutely one of my most stalwart traits.
Honestly, I have worked incredibly hard to cultivate a life that allows for whimsy and doesn’t require me to be consistent. I truly think I would die if I lived only in absolutes and had to do the same shit every single day.
Here’s the thing: I know that the start of another year doesn’t actually mean shit. Your life could change on any damn day, or, for that matter, it could simply end, tbh. Days are days that come one after the other, forever and ever, the end.
I want this to be the year where I truly begin to make that shit happen.
Actually, I take that back. I want this DAY to be the one. When it comes to my big-ass goals and dreams, I want every day to be a day where I “truly make that shit happen.” I want today and every day to be a good one. Fuck setting a goal for an entire year.
As soon as I set a goal, that’s the sabotage of it. Any resolutions I attempt to make tend to begin and end with their very existence because I buck at responsibility. I hate routine and regimen. While I know that routine lies deep within my lack of routine, at least it’s centered around my whimsy and autonomy.
I promise that I am not really a bad girl, or at least, I don’t want to be one. I do strive to be more consistent. I don’t shirk responsibility, and I make efforts to avoid leaving work undone.
But I have to trick myself into accomplishing new things… which, IMO, is really one of my weirdest traits because I love new things. I avoid routines because they feel like restrictions and the repetition of anything soon begins to feel boring. I quickly tire of anything I’m “supposed” to be doing, even if it’s pleasurable or fulfilling, simply because I’m supposed to do it.
I have decided that, this year, my output doesn’t determine the value of the experience. My joy is not a commodity meant to be consumed.
But I am striving.
These are not resolutions. I just want to be more intentional about my whims and spend time on the things I love.
Like how I love writing. As soon as I decided to finally write my book, I resolved to write every day, and then I stopped altogether. I didn’t write for three years.
And how I enjoy making things just for the hell of it, like silly little collages and doodles. I used to make greeting cards out of my illustrations, but as soon as I began to receive orders, I couldn’t bring myself to draw anymore.
And the way one year, I said I was going to make a collage every single day all year, just for fun. The day I made that resolution was the last day I did it.
There are a few constants, though. At least I know that I can be consistent about something.
Like how I love to travel. In 2023, I left my city at least once a month. I visited California four times within the span of a year, and Josh and I went to Spain. But then, as soon as I told myself I was going to pitch travel writing for publication, I didn’t want to write about travel anymore.
And I also love to read. Picking up a book every single day is one of my non-negotiables. This year, I finished 71 books and I’m close to finishing another. I never have to tell myself to read; it’s not something I’m supposed to be doing. Maybe the trick is to stop telling myself that something productive needs to come from joy.
Perhaps the things I make and write have a mind of their own and can’t policed. Perhaps they create themselves through my hands and I just need to shut the fuck up and listen.
Living is the accomplishment. It’s in the creation of the life you’re dreaming of that you get to live the dream. So I don’t expect to magically wake up as a person who is wholly committed to her dreams just because the calendar flipped a page.
I do want to be a person who stays committed to that dream. I want to be the kind of person who makes something out of nothing.
But there is no timeline for dreams. You don’t have to love yourself on a schedule. You don’t need to be punished for not meeting your own deadlines. Fuck that shit. Here’s to feeling good all the time. Here’s to doing whatever you want for the pleasure of it, without the pressure of accomplishment.