I did it, of course. Made resolutions for 2013.
Pretty much every year I fall headlong into resolution-making anyway. The ends of things and the starts of other things lead me to reflection, and resolutions seem to flow naturally after that, as I am always trying to do just a bit better next time, in the future, and nothing speaks of future than the new year (whether for you that’s January 1 or like many mothers, the Tuesday after Labour Day).
Among my resolutions? Two easy ones come to mind: learn to use my camera properly and learn a bit about photography; also I’d like to learn the basics of sewing. I’m positive I’m supposed to include something about exercise, which I actually do, but not as regularly as I should. But that’s like a constant deficiency, and probably shouldn’t take us space here.
A big, new(ish) resolution for me, and frankly in conflict with the others, is that I would really like to finish what I start. More specifically, there are some projects that are waiting, like the loyal boy at the back of the class, for my attention to wander back to them. Because I’m big on starting. Ooo, I have ideas galore, I’m kind of an idea junky.
The thing is, leaving things halfway done feeds a latent, ever-present fear that I don’t, well, finish what I start. Also, and this is important for idea junkies everywhere, actually completing a project brings a real charge of satisfaction and creates confidence to try something else… and finish it.
So the cabinet I saved from the cottage junk pile and stripped over the summer, that puppy is going to get some applications fo paint, and get mounted on the bathroom. Those four knitting projects half done, even though I’m not a huge knitter, I’m going to finish those before I start anything new. The massive basement purge, the craft projects, the pictures that need to be hung, I’m on it. The next Blurb blog book, which I know from experience will take well over 30 hours, it’s so high on that To Finish list, I can already see myself ticking it off!
It’s true that I might need to sew something before I finish these things, because I’ve gone and volunteered sewing skills that I don’t possess at my sons’ school for motivation. Also, I’m going to try sprouting, but that’s such a little repetitive thing, it ought not to count as a project. As for the enormous life, homesteading, and gardening projects my husband and I have planned, how much could they interfere with my little old resolutions?
So it is that resolutions, in my neck of the woods, are aspirations. They’re indicators of where I’d like to go, but not tyrannical or anything, not even insistent like the laundry. More like the reminder post-it notes that eventually lose their stick and flutter behind the desk. But, you protest, does she even know the meaning of the word “resolve”? As a matter of fact, I do, but that hardly seems a reason to let myself get bossed around by my own ambitions.