New Year’s Adam
If you read my recent Rebel-utions post, you know that I struggle with the whole New Year’s Resolution concept. One of the dangers is that Resolutions are not just personal, they’re pervasive.
This transition from one year to the next is entirely arbitrary. How do I know this? I have worked in organizations where the “fiscal year” did not align with the “calendar year.” And then, of course there’s the “school year.” Regardless of what sort of year you’re talking about, and wherever it might start and end, it’s an arbitrary construct.
But we imbue New Year’s with a great deal of power. We celebrate (sometimes to the point of stupidity) the transition from 11:59 PM to 12:00 AM on this one particular day. We sing special songs, have parties, make toasts. We get an extra day off.
I could probably write a deep, philosophical post about celebrating the passage of time in an effort to exert imaginary control over it. We all end the year as the elderly Father Time and start the year as Baby New Year. There is always power in conscious endings, in universal reflection (Spotify Wrapped day, anyone?). There is always beauty in ritual and celebration. But with all of this man-made meaning heaped onto this one point in time, it’s easy to forget that the changing of the year doesn’t actually do anything. It’s a model, not a tool. (You can read more about models vs. tools in this post.)
In order for the idea of the fresh start to result in an actual fresh start, we have to take action. We have to do whatever is necessary to scuttle our old ways of thinking and climb aboard the ship of reform. If you struggle to make a commitment to something, crossing the threshold of the new year isn’t going to magically give you the ability to commit. Even adding capital letters doesn’t make a New Year’s Resolution any easier to adopt than any ordinary, work-a-day, small r resolution.
All New Year’s has going for it is branding. Associating our changes with the BIG DEAL that is New Year’s makes them shinier. They are suddenly linked to the long and gloried history of New Year’s Resolutions. They are part of the huge community of transformers who aim at getting “I got better” badges in January of any given year. We tell ourselves that if New Year’s Resolutions didn’t work, they wouldn’t be embraced by millions of people every year.
This has implications far beyond our individual efforts to change and improve. Let’s talk Transformation. Capital-T-Transformations are these large or extra-large (or huge or gargantuan) change initiatives that get announced at work. Anyone who has “gone Agile” has lived through some sort of Agile Transformation. These initiatives are Big Deals. We announce them. We preach their benefits. We engage with Change Management people. We get emails inviting us to get on board. We get training and resources upon resources upon resources.
And just like New Year’s, the go-live date arrives with all the ritual fanfare. I’ve been through these things where balloons and streamers are involved. But eventually the balloons deflate and the streamers are just tiny little colored flutters taped to the ceiling. And the world just doesn’t feel all that different than it did before.
When we celebrate change as an event, it feels powerful. All of the pageantry and focus can make us believe that we’re really on a better path. We buy into the message. We’re excited about the benefits. But we never realize them. We never get there. Because all the talk and celebration and glitter culminate at a single point in time — at the New Year — and we haven’t invested in all the infrastructure we need to keep things going long term.
Because despite what every self-improvement product in the world might try to convince you, there’s no reason to think that this New Year’s will be different from any other. If New Year’s Resolutions really worked, if they really lived up to the hype, we probably wouldn’t need them to happen again every year. Yes, today may be the first day of the rest of your life, but the rest of your life is a pretty long stretch of time to deal with, and if you don’t want every day to be the first day of whatever changes you’re actually trying to make, then we have to move past the ritual celebrations.
Think of it like weddings and marriages. (And I’m sure I’ve used this metaphor before.) The most beautiful, most touching, most expensive wedding in the world cannot guarantee you a good marriage. Marriages are hard work. Any long term change is hard work. And there’s nothing wrong with getting excited about it and launching it in a big (and even an expensive) way — but that cannot take the place of the daily, grinding, habit forming work required to make a change successful.
What might we accomplish if we stopped focusing on moments of transition, on creating the perfect gateway to transformation, and instead put the bulk of our resources toward the change itself. What if we stopped treating change like an event and started treating it like an extended campaign? It’s not about a successful day one, it’s about a successful day 364. (Or day 365 if we’re in a leap year. Ha! You thought you’d escape this post without a full-on geek moment!)
Next time you feel like things have to change, spend less time talking about it, less time planning to launch it, less time celebrating it, and more time getting all your ducks in a row to do it — over and over and over again. That’s the only way to make it a new part of life: to practice it until your brain turns it into an automatic pattern — a habit — that you’ll continue to do until it’s time for another change.
Change is hard. Reprogramming our brains is hard. Functioning within new parameters is uncomfortable. There are things we have to give up in order to get something new. So maybe change involves some grieving. Make space for that so that it doesn’t derail you. Sometimes we’re going to backslide. What can we put in place to reground us? What sort of compass can we design to keep reminding us to change direction if we get off course?
Chances are our changes and transformations won’t progress carelessly down the happy path. Launching your ship of reform with confetti and a bursting bottle of champagne is a great way to generate momentum. But eventually, the path of change heads up hill and you’ll have to find new ways to generate forward movement against drag, against headwinds, against gravity. Real change requires more than branding. It requires grit and commitment.
We spend so much time getting ready for New Year’s Eve. We design new cocktails, buy new outfits, decorate, cook and clean. We think about our Resolutions and buy new workout gear, blank journals, new cookbooks, a Fitbit. We’re prepared and we launch the New Year in style. But did you ever notice there’s no fancy name for January 2nd? We celebrate the day before, the Eve. But we definitely don’t celebrate the day after. For many of us, we spend that day cleaning up after and really feeling the consequences of our Eve celebrations. Maybe we’d care more about day 2 if we gave it a name. You heard it here first. I’m coining it: New Year’s Adam. (Ok. 1. I’m not really coining that. I heard it somewhere — I’m sure you heard it somewhere. I don’t know who to credit for it, but it’s definitely already out there. 2. It’s super corny. If I were going to coin something I don’t think I’d resort to any sort of biblical reference. I’d like to think I’m slightly hipper than that.) And, ok, maybe this idea won’t catch on — but I hope you get what I’m saying.
Go ahead and have a party. Drink champagne, Dance. Count down the last few moments of the old world. Sing it off into oblivion. But if you want to be successful, make sure you didn’t just plan for that one night event. Make sure you’ve also thought about how to get up on day 2 with continued enthusiasm. Even if you’re hungover.
Actually, especially if you’re hungover.
