So yesterday this well-known professor of Christian Ethics guest-preached, and he confessed publicly (so I have no compunctions about reconfessing for him here) that he and his wife have 100 New Year’s resolutions between them.
Seriously. He has 60, organized into a neat outline with Roman numerals and everything. He made them into a POWER POINT for us. She has 40, no doubt equally well organized.
My first thought was that she is a better person than he is, because she only needs to fix 40 things. But then I wondered if he wasn’t a better person, because maybe they each have, say, 100 things to fix, and he is taking on 60% to her 40%.
My second thought was, LORD, Joshilyn, is EVERYTHING a competition? And my third thought was, YES. Fourth was, MAYBE THAT IS SOMETHING YOU SHOULD RESOLVE TO WORK ON. THE BEING LESS OF A COMPETITIVE BUTTHEAD, EH? Fifth: Shut up and listen to the sermon, squirrel-brain.
After, I thought about this couple. We are getting to know them pretty well, and neither of them seems to have enough character flaws to require resolutions in the DOUBLE digits, much less 100 flaws each. I really picked 100 flaws each for them as a convenience to myself— I suck at math.
Basically, these are WONDERFUL people, and the fact that they are examining their lives and trying to do/think/feel/be better on so many fronts makes me feel admiration. And inspires me. And, yes, makes me VERY VERY TIRED.
You know how much I freakin’ hate growing as a person.
I am the girl who has always said that the examined life makes me want to walk into the sea. Inside my navel—please God and thanks good hygiene—is nothing much worth looking at.
I had exactly ONE resolution, and it took me almost 700 frantic words, RIFE with near-random spasms of caps-lockery and cat butt jokes, to choke it out of myself. You can scroll down two entries and read it, or I will just boil it down to two words for you here. The whole of my resolution could be stated like this: “BLOG MORE.”
Okay, to be fair to me, you could also boil it down to BE HAPPIER. You could boil it down, as well, to LOVE MORE (which, in my opinion BE HAPPIER and LOVE MORE are two sides of the same coin, so that is a boil down that all happens in one pot. Which seems to mean, spiritually speaking, that I would have less dishes to wash? Fine.)
It could also—most truthfully I think—-be boiled down to, I WANT TO LIVE A LIFE WORTH WRITING ABOUT.
But maybe there is MORE to that than just saying it in 700 spastic words and then gamboling away feeling like I accomplished a thing by ANNOUNCING that I have a single, broad, and mostly good intention.
I could resolve to CAUSE WORLD PEACE with the same amount of aplomb (and the same number of cat butt jokes) and then wander off just as joyfully. Now, here is some math even I can do. If I ANNOUNCE that I am going to cause world peace, how much extra world peace can we expect to see by 2015?
Answer: None. None more world peace.
If I really want a life worth writing about, I am horrified to report that I need AN ACTUAL PLAN. With stages and objectives. I doubt I can manage an outline because I am intimidated by Roman Numerals and can never remember how much C is, and also I don’t have an organizational skill.
Perhaps that is what I do first? I GET an organizational skill, or, more realistically, I live find a VERY SIMPLE system I can use.
I suspect I am capable of a checklist.
Yes. I am. I AM CAPABLE OF A CHECKLIST.
Resolved: I am going to make a checklist.
NO. I am going to make THREE checklists. A list of things to do DAILY. A list of things to do WEEKLY. And a list of things to do before this year is over.
Thing one on all those lists is MAKE THESE LISTS. That will happen this week. SO now I have a goal and a deadline. *preen* These things are slightly more concrete than a good intention.
Ya’ll. Ugh. This is terrible. It seems like I have decided YET AGAIN that I have to grow as a person.