My New Year’s Resolution: Dream Small.
Aah, March. Finally, I feel comfortable to walk into my gym without the overcrowding of people who have decided that 2019 is the year they change their life. I may sound like one of those assholes who go to the gym six times before work every day but the truth is that I stepped back into the gym for the first time since last year today. Why? Well, firstly because I did the very un-adulty mistake of not reading the t&c’s of my membership and now can’t cancel it before the end of the year so I might as well try to use it. The second reason why I’ve not gone to the gym because I think I’m allergic to new year’s resolutions.
I’ve always been the person who throws themselves headfirst into new hobbies, responsibilities and relationships (I just got very lucky that I met and fell for someone who wasn’t freaked out by that). But, after a while, my passion projects seem to always run into problems. Kickboxing? I quit as soon as my friend that I went with moved to another city. NaNoWriMo? I quit after one day when it fully hit me just how insane writing 1600 words of prose a day for a month truly is. Writing Medium articles regularly? You get the picture.
That’s why I feel conflicted about making any promises to myself — because I know I have a hard time following through with things. But not trying new things out of fear that it’ll be too tough? That’s not the level of adulting I aspire to.
So, how can you hold yourself accountable and grab that bull we call a full life by the horns? You keep yourself accountable. This is clearly not an art I’ve mastered yet, but I’m working on it. That seems to be the running theme of my blog. But I think I read ‘It’s not the destination, it’s the journey’ on an inspirational sofa cushion once. So let’s work this out.
Throughout my life, whenever I’ve started feeling stuck in a rut, I’ve tried to write a book. This is not an attainable goal for so many reasons. Have you seen books? They’re pretty massive, and writing can be really tough. Not feeling like every word you write down is insufferable, unoriginal drivel is hard. So, I try to break my goals down to more achievable portions. Creating and then checking items off a checklist can be very satisfying. Or buying yourself a doughnut when you’ve completed a task. Maybe I shouldn’t set out to write a bestseller, because that’s too much pressure for anyone. Maybe I try to write a short story, or an article (hello) to work on my craft. Maybe I join a creative writing class with a friend who can help make sure you actually go. Maybe I write a little bit, every now and again.
That’s why I don’t like New Year ’s resolutions. They’re often pretty huge, like finding and securing your dream job or doing a triathlon, or very vague, like becoming more confident. Even if something big or more conceptual is your eventual goal, breaking that down to small, very achievable chunks means you don’t hate yourself by the time the first snowdrops push their way through the ground. It also means it’s much easier to keep yourself accountable.
If I do set New Year’s resolutions, they’re pretty small. I’ve been doing a lot of yoga recently — a hobby that I’ve quit and picked back up over the years more times I can count — so this year, I want to master two things. First, the crow pose, a cool arm balance that looks super impressive but is really pretty accessible, and secondly a headstand.
While I’m nowhere near balancing on my head yet, I have successfully done the crow pose many times already. That’s because I really have been doing quite a bit of yoga, but more importantly, it’s something that I wasn’t too far off from achieving at the end of December anyway. So I get to congratulate myself now for achieving something that was so accessible to me I didn’t shut down from the fear of not being able to complete my task. Now, I can keep perfecting my crow pose and pulling my knees into my armpits (yoga is weird), and knowing that I’m capable of reaching my goals is a great motivator for me to work towards my other promises to myself as well, both on and off the yoga mat. So I challenge you to dream small. It doesn’t sound very inspiring, but there’s a wonderful sense of relief that comes with realistic, achievable objectives.
So, why am I writing an article on New Year’s resolutions in March and not, say, December? Because I’m clearly not someone you should take advice from when it comes to sticking to your goals. But if the gym scares you, I grant you permission to just go for a walk instead, or if you want to learn to do a handstand, maybe just learn how to do the best goddamn downward dog your yoga teacher has ever seen first. Because that’s how you work your way up to changing your life in more profound ways. Or you know, at least you’ll be really flexible.
