I'm not big on New Year's resolutions. Probably, because I don't trust myself to follow through on what I resolve. I vaguely remember resolving to make my bed every day last year. I'm sure there were more unmade days than made ones in the final analysis.
I had a friend once who made resolutions at the beginning of February, instead of January. That would be fully in keeping with my personality. After all, I sent out my Christmas cards after Christmas for so many years in a row that one recipient wrote to tell me I could take her off our list since I obviously only send one after receiving theirs (not true, but they clearly didn't know that my track record wasn't personal). This year, that is the one thing I nixed altogether in an effort to simplify and lighten my load. Of course, since I don't want to end up never receiving cards again, I should probably resolve (and pen it in on my calendar on November) to send a card with family photo extra early next year.
To be honest, I do think about resolutions, even if I don't actually make them and hold myself to them. In fact, I was thinking the other night of some characters from books that I've read. I think I would do well to be more like them, even if they are just made up, and can thus be any way the author decides to make them be (gosh, that sounded awfully British - so perhaps you should read that last sentence with a bit of an accent).
For starters, I'm thinking of Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind. Although it has been literally ages since I've read that book (senior year of HS), I recall that she always determined to think of troubling things ... TOMORROW!
I tend to perseverate. Perhaps, I should say, I am a perseverator! (Doesn't that sound intimidating?) When I worked as an individual assistant in a grade school, I worked with two kindergarten students who were perseverators. They would narrow their focus onto one extreme thought and not let go of it for the life of them. Everyone around them would be cajoling them into moving on to some other task or focus, but they remained fixed.
I perseverate on thoughts of worry and discouragement. In my head, I play the cards out over and over again, always coming up with the same hand and always folding. It is a wretched thing to cling to these thoughts, but just you try and tease me out of them. I stand as purposefully as my autistic counterparts.
Thus, I believe I should resolve to be more like Scarlett in the new year. I should tell myself, in that off-hand way she always used, "I shall think about this ... tomorrow."
I would also like to be more like Harriet M. Welsh, from Harriet the Spy, in the coming year. I would like to be more pro-active about observing things and people around me and writing it all down in a personal journal (blogging sometimes has the tendency to suck all the writing energies, leaving little left for the personal reflections you intend for your eyes alone).
However, it has been an even longer span of time since I read Harriet the Spy. When I checked Wikipedia, to determine Harriet's last name, I discovered that I had forgotten quite a bit of the book. In fact, I would do well to read it all over again. For instance, I forgot that the detailed observations Harriet takes down are eventually discovered by her classmates and end up alienating all of her friends. Hmm ... that's an important detail, no?
Well, then, I resolve to be more like Harriet in my writing endeavors, but to also purchase a locked safe to keep my personal journals tucked away.
I would also like to be more like Jo of Little Women. Indeed, when I first began keeping a journal, way back when I was 10 or 11 years old, I used to sign each entry "Jo." I did this for two reasons. One, my middle name is Jo (ah, there's a little known bit of trivia). But, mostly, it was because I identified so thoroughly with Jo, a tom-boy, bucking the feminine role, with a passion for writing.
I want to be genuine, like Jo. I want to be completely honest about my shortcomings and faults, while still attempting to do my very best to meet the needs of those around me. I want to view my responsibilities with greater reverence. I want to raise my "little men" with more conscious deliberation. If I can manage to capture her tender balance between joyful exuberance (she engages in a pillow fight with her charges) and wisdom (she always lends direction to each child as they face their own difficulties) during the coming year, I will count it a success.
I also want to be more like Pippi Longstocking. No, I'm not planning on sleeping with my feet on the pillow (I think John would move to the couch) or bringing a horse into the house (we already have one and his name is Harley Dog). I resolve to be more self-confident and less consumed with what others think and say. Like Pippi, I want to chart my own course. I want to seize the boldness that allows her to wear her pigtails, her stripey socks (so out of fashion), her men's shoes. My life could stand some of Pippi's fun, as well. Like Pippi, I want to spend this coming year pursuing ADVENTURES.
Finally, I'd like to be more like the little engine in The Little Engine That Could. I want to keep on chugging on the rails God has laid before me, even when the going gets steep and I feel unfit for the task at hand. I want to constantly remind myself that, with His help, I can do it. (Okay, so I'll allow myself to perseverate on those empowering thoughts, but not the disabling thoughts.)
As you can see, I plan to spend this coming year being quite a character! What characters would you like to emulate?
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