My title was initially a typo–I was intending to type in the word “resolving.”
But I’m an enthusiastic participant in my generation’s steady attempts to entirely re-write English vocabulary by squashing together words so that we may enjoy the luxury of explaining ourselves with as few words as possible. We may just be the laziest generation ever to live. On the flip side, we are also incredibly resourceful in kow-towing to said laziness.
So. . .resoliving is hereby declared by me to be the process of living a life of steadfastness, purpose, or whatever synonyms of ‘resolve’ you choose from your thesaurus (please choose to ignore the irony undergirding the fact that this title was a complete accident. . .).
Last night was New Year’s Eve, which means today, 1/1/11, marks the beginning of a new year. This essentially means that nothing in your life has changed, but since it grants you a bit of a psychological reprieve from the sameness of your day-to-day routine, many people utilize this marker to resolve to change something about their lives. Hope is a beautiful, if misleading thing. It certainly does spring eternal in the human breast, but it has no business springing anywhere at all with regard to New Year’s resolutions, for most people seem to be content to resolve without actually bothering to seek change.
But change is usually a human-shy little devil, and has to be carefully tracked and wrestled into submission.
I know this because I’m the Queen of Unsuccessful Resolutions. One of my regular refrains to my mother is, “If I did half the things I wanted to do, I would be the coolest person EVER!” I firmly believe this, because one of my resolutions is to be the coolest person ever. So far, I seem to be actively striving against said resolution, but I persist in thinking that enough hope will eventually give the process a jump-start. We’ll see.
I didn’t actually intend to write any of the above, but I just took Tylenol PM, and I’m rapidly descending on the road to Looneyville. So allow me to hit my thesis and close before I start telling you uninteresting stories about how I accidentally poisoned my pet bird one time.
Because I’m so lame at resolution-keeping, I’m staying far away from any kind of official proclamation of resolution this year. Instead, I’m focusing more on identifying life themes that could use a little expounding upon this year. Does that make sense? If not, think of it as resolutions dressed up in counselor-speak.
Based on the trajectory and themes of my past year, I’m making the educated guess that 2011 will be focused on some pretty heavy healing. I use the adjective heavy because healing tends to suck–but that’s a different post for a different day. I also think that during the course of 2011, I’m going to learn many lessons about humility, though I’d settle for just one lesson. At this juncture, anything I learn will be something I’ve never known before, so that’s all good.
Healing and humility. I like those potential themes, and I’m hoping to resolive toward–around? through? over? about?–them this year. That is, I want to be pretty intentional to pursue them and to leave space in my life for God to work them out (gah, I just wrote a whole sentence of vague Christianese, and I have no brain power left to translate it into human. Forgive me). I’ve already got some posts regarding healing cooking on my draft burner; you may just have to look for humility growth in between the lines of my posts, though, because something tells me that making the decision that I’m ready to write a post on humility automatically disqualifies me from any such position.
Looneyville just arrived, so I’m off to sleep off a looming virus. But before closing, I want to open the floor for some audience participation–do you have any New Year’s resolutions? Have you ever actually followed through on any that you’ve made in the past? If so, may I purchase some of your resoliving tendencies? How much blogging hangover will I have in the morning after posting this poor little half-blog full of half-thoughts and poor sentence structures? Ah, the questions of life. . . (but really, I would love to hear if you have any resolutions and ideas for how to keep them).