Resolutions are ubiquitous on January 1st. Heeded by nearly everyone around the world, this tradition was initially founded in fear. Dating back over 4000 years, the Babylonians would make promises to the gods at the start of their year (in March); if promises were kept, they would stay in the gods’ good graces. The Romans further developed this ritual, followed by the Christians, who ultimately moved the first day of the new year to January and *officially* declared it a time to repent past mistakes and resolve to do and be better.
This practice has since evolved from fear-based promises and guilty admissions to grand declarations of bad-habits-be-gone committed to with immense fervor this time of year (or at least this past week). However, these grand declarations are often unrealistic and call on you to be an entirely different person. Even the words "New Year, New You" suggests that the current you sucks and it's high time you change everything about yourself. No wonder we fail. Not because we can't evolve away from our bad habits but because it doesn't happen instantly, and the assumption that one night has the magic to do so is unlikely. Plus, I rather like the current me, and I look forward to evolving at a realistic (not radical) pace. Therefore, I've moved away from resolutions and decided that being intentional about where I focus my energy makes for a better start to outlining a New Year's manifesto.
I love the quiet time between the holidays for doing just that — for outlining my intentions. Like most, I took last week off from work and writing. I hung out by the fire and hung out with the kids. I walked over 35 miles and skied more than 45 runs. I spent time thinking about the past year and about the year ahead. I took stock. I reassessed. I reframed and revisited outdated narratives. I looked back at how far I've come and forward at what's to come.
But that's the me of today; it wasn't always this way. Before, there were intentions, and after I swore off resolutions, there was a period, a few years back, of manifesting. Just before the holidays, I stumbled on a list I'd written and stashed away in my closet 4 years ago. It was the first year of Covid; I'd just returned to NYC from living in LA, and I was dating a string of uninspiring Peter Pans. I'd had enough. Days after the New Year, I sat down to "manifest a man." Yes. You read that right. Under the moonlight, on white paper with no lines and blue ink, I haphazardly jotted everything I "thought" I wanted in a partner and a few lazy goals for good measure.
Like a kid in the candy store, I carelessly scribbled disingenuous dreams and superficial desires rather than digging into what I truly needed — it was the adult equivalent of teddy bears and gift cards on a kid's Christmas list. All fluff. It's funny how reading back on things from another headspace can sound so foreign. It's almost the same as reading your angsty diary from high school. CRINGE.
Look, I was leading a very wonderful and fulfilling life filled with amazing friends, a beautiful daughter and work I was proud of, but wanting a partner to share my life with was the emotional undercurrent of my day-to-day.
Loaded with dumb stuff, my "manifesting” list read: "He's a pro surfer, and we travel from coast to coast and have houses in Malibu and NYC. Fly private, etc." It was all wrong. And it was not me. I don't even care about surfing. Or modes of transportation for that matter. I didn't believe in any of it, which is why none of it ever came true. I remember thinking: I don't really want this, but it sounds cool, so why not. At that point, dating felt like a grab bag of options. I didn't know what I was asking for, calling in, or needing; without a firm direction, no amount of goals, resolutions, or manifestations would get me there. It wasn't until I understood what matters is how someone makes you feel that things started coming together for me. The rest — the houses, recreational activities, and fancy flights — don't. Though they are fun and may come, so long as the foundation is sound.
Ridiculous list aside, I figured it out.
Alive. Loved. Safe. Important. Family. Joy. Laughter. Heard. Understood. Best-Friend. Sexy. These are just a few things that have nothing to do with surfing or beach houses. Though we do ski. A lot. One of my friends calls him “Mr. Ski.”
And while I hardly write about my actual relationship here, it contributes to much of my thinking and learning about healthy relationships. A few nights ago, we sat at the bar of Raf’s in Nolita and reviewed our previous year’s intentions. Around the same time last year, we carefully crafted a list of 20 intentions for our relationship in 2023. The list was not wistful or dreamy. It was intentional; the goals, lofty but realistic.
I'm happy to report we accomplished nearly all of them.
It was exciting to review. When you're in the weeds, bogged down by the day-to-day, it's easy to feel like nothing’s moving forward. But looking back on a list that once seemed radical but now is complete makes you realize progress was made and wins were had. Plus, isn't it more fun to review successes and build on that versus fixing shortcomings à la resolutions?
I went to bed thinking about everything I intended to carry into 2024. I'm excited to grow, but I’m not looking for a total overhaul, and I'm certainly not trying to manifest a man or exercise more. Instead, I intend to focus on my family, home, friendships, and career — all of which sounds broad, I know, but I've detailed some thoughts below, along with a few quotes I’ve collected that hit just right.
Let (Sh)It Go:
Be it with my partner, my ex, or a friend this year, I intend to let shit go. Drop the ego. Don't take shit too seriously. And embrace the benefit of the doubt. I may fail, but I intend to make an effort. I've been reading this book, Unreasonable Hospitality: The Remarkable Power of Giving People More Than They Expect, written by Will Guidara, the co-founder of 11 Madison Park. One of his pillars is to assume the best in everyone. Assume your friend did everything she could to show up. Assume your partner has your best interest at heart. And while you're at it, make light of one another's quirks, even if they're super annoying. For example, I'm late. He's punctual. It's funny. Right, Baby?
The Time Of My Life:
Time is precious. I think about it a lot. This is ironic since I can't tell time, and I'm never on time, but more so about the overall amount we have, which is limited. When I was a new mom, someone much older and wiser than me said, "The days are long but the years are short. Enjoy every moment because it goes by too fast." I've found this to be true not only of rearing kids but of life, too. I'm often frustrated by life's timelines and the pace of plans; I want everything right now. But reviewing the year gives me perspective and a realization that it’s all happening just as it should. So, whether solo or shacked up, write out your intentions and review your successes at the end of the year. In this video, Jay Shetty suggests writing a win from every week and putting it in a jar to accumulate and read through at the end of the year. You'll be astounded by how it all adds up.
Adding to that, I also intend to make deeper connections, spend quality time with the people I love, and leave my phone behind to better be in the moment. I'm also attempting to be on time (see adorable quirk above) so those I love feel I value their time. This is no easy feat and feels like a resolution, so I'm not holding my breath.
For My Daughter:
Prioritizing my daughter's well-being with great intention. As someone who's been a single mom for years, my focus was all over the place. I did the best I could with what I knew or understood. But with every new age comes new challenges, and the last couple of years have allowed me to hone in on the type of parent I want to be and continue to become. I'm cultivating and nurturing this most critical relationship in a big way.
Thank You For Being A Friend:
When nurturing something like a new relationship, those nearest to you usually feel it most and see you the least. For years, I placed my friendships at the center of my life. But for the last couple of years, I've been focused on cultivating a deeper relationship with my teenager and a life with my partner. As with all things, balance is impossible, so while my daughter and my home life have taken precedence, I've done less for my friends. This year, I'm strengthening my connection to the people I love. There will be more checking in. More dinners, drinks, and dancing. More of everything.
Kiss Even More Than We Already Do:
Spend time kissing. Lots of it. Because if you're kissing, you can't be fighting. If an argument arises, remember the goal is to reach a consensus and resolve, not to win, and always kiss at the end. Better yet, as my dear friends would say, kiss for 7 seconds after a fight, and just like that, you're no longer arguing because you're making out.
Many Thanks:
Lastly, when it comes to time, thank you for spending yours here. As I said, it’s precious.
All for this!
Yes! My sentiments exactly. Ditching resolutions and inviting in intentions. I wrote about this too funnily enough 😊