I take New Year’s resolutions seriously. The opportunity to make a fresh start on an annual basis demonstrates the generosity an occasionally cruel universe can muster up. Usually my list of resolutions takes days to finish, but this year when I sat down to determine my priorities for 2011, something weird happened. In seconds, I wrote four things on a piece of paper then was immediately overcome by a soothing sense of completion. First on my list was my boyfriend’s name. Second was the working title of my next novel. Third was “creativity.” Fourth was “inner peace.”
No need to achieve X or accomplish Y. All I want is to nurture the love in my life and my soul.
Then again, zeroing in on those four priorities may require deemphasizing a whole host of other things and reconsidering how I spend my time.
Thus, in 2011:
– I resolve to stop giving a rat’s patootie about celebrities’ lives. If I’m on a roll writing my book, do I really need to click over to Yahoo to find out why Cameron Diaz is “trending?” Can I live without knowing about Jessica Alba’s new haircut or the china Prince William and his chick picked out for their wedding? All signs point to yes.
– Speaking of celebrities, if I should happen upon Lady Gaga or Katy Perry, I resolve to punch them right in the kisser. No thinking human being should have to live in a world where either of these pop monstrosities’ loud and incessant boneheadedness is heard on the airwaves sixteen thousand times per day. However, I would recommend playing either “Bad Romance” or “California Girls” (excuse me, “Gurls”) on repeat as a form of torture in the war on terrorism.
– I will no longer be taken in by magazine headlines offering to tell me how to find and keep love. The articles – “The Scent that Makes You Appear More Slender” – and tips – “if your guy’s squared shoulders cave in when he’s chatting with you, he’s indicating that he feels secure in your presence” are absurd. Have these people ever been in a relationship?
– I need to learn to take compliments. Well, more specifically, compliments on my hair. I have thick, curly hair that, depending on the weather, either cascades in darling little ringlets to my shoulders or fuzzes up into the most tumbleweed-esque mass of frizz known to humankind. Offering genuine thanks whenever someone praises one’s appearance is, to me, a sign of self-love. But tell me my hair looks nice and I’ll say, “really? ‘Cuz I thought I looked like Don King.” No mas in 2011.
– Lastly, I will continue to uphold my 2010 resolution to be kind to everyone who crosses my path. Last year, I traveled halfway across the city to give a guy the wallet he’d lost and I’d found, and chased a bus for blocks just to complain about the driver who’d ignored a woman and her baby as they tried to board. Then there were the smiles and friendly banter I offered neighbors, strangers and disgruntled bank tellers. These acts didn’t fill my world with miracles and butterflies, but I did feel a sense of connection to my fellow human beings. And in the end, isn’t that what keeps us all going?
With these few alterations to my daily habits, I’m certain to become the loving, serene, endlessly inspired person I hope to be. In 2011 and beyond.
[Image from Amazon.com.uk]