In a radical break with tradition, I have decided to make NO resolutions this January. I am going to smile a lot, flow with whatever happens, do new things and travel more.
Basically, I am going to ease up on my perfectionist expectations of myself, as much and as often as I can.
If the prophets of doom are correct, the world is going to end in December anyway so I can delay Christmas shopping until the very last minute, without guilt, just like most men do..
(No, I don't believe the world will end in December. I am amazed that so many do believe that.)
If I actually believed the end of the world was nigh, I would spend, spend and spend some more and amuse myself by living in amazing hotels for the next 11 months or so. The credit cards would be maxed out. I would live between cruise liners and fabulous destinations, all around the world.
No, that's not possible. I panic too much about debt so I avoid it.
I am always impressed by those who make resolutions and stick to them. Mind you, they seem miserable and sanctimonious. Deprivation does nasty things to the face and self-righteousness makes you lose two inches in height. Honest.
But self-indulgence isn't so hot either. Look in any bar and you don't see too many happy, shiny faces.
A little of what you fancy should probably be the relevant mantra.
Like too many of us baby boomers, I am hard on myself and I see my faults much more clearly than I see my qualities.
Then I get depressed, which really does not help matters.
So I started this off by saying I wasn't going to make any resolutions. But I end by saying I do have one. I am going to enjoy being me a lot more. I am going to learn that American thing of saying "I am awesome", without irony, when anyone asks how I am.
By Christmas, or by the end of the world, whichever comes first, I intend to put some genuine feeling into saying it.
This year is for me, me, me. I am going to get deeply in touch with my inner playful teenager. She and I are going to have a lot more fun.