Un-Resolutions for 2019

As 2018 started winding down, I started mentally listing all the things I want to tackle in 2019. I’ve been at this juncture before. The juncture where I tell myself that I don’t make New Year’s resolutions.

But somehow, I make some secret promises to myself for the new year to be healthier, better, more positive and they lodge themselves into my consciousness.

Honestly, it doesn’t even have to be the eminent new year for me to attach significance to a date. It’s not nostalgia or ceremony, its anticipation. I believe the date will bring something awesome – no, I believe I will do something awesome.

Something Awesome Tomorrow.

I use significant events as milestones to mark turning points or starting points or pivots (for those of you into business-y lingo). Although I don’t subscribe to religion or spirituality or cosmic controlling forces, I manage to build moments up in my head as something with astrological significance; momentous occasions that foretell my future; prophecies about my life.

In the recent past, I’ve marked several of these moments only to squander them away because of some silly this or some silly that or maybe some not-even-so-silly other stuff.

One such moment was after my mother died. I thought, “Now, I will get my shit together.” I didn’t.

A year later, I rode a motorcycle across the country thinking, “When I am done, I will get my shit together.” Still didn’t do it.

Next thing I knew, the calendar was turning over to 2018. I decided I would pursue a dream of cheese making in 2018. I signed up for a two-week intensive cheesemaking class and booked cheese tours. I planned to focus 2018 on learning cheesemaking.

It wasn’t a resolution.

I did the class. I did the tours. When I returned, I said to myself yet again, ‘NOW, I will get my shit together.”

I got distracted. I fizzled and sputtered. I got “busy” and things just weren’t right at the moment and whatever other excuses I could make. So, still, I didn’t get my shit together.

Now, another new year is arriving.

2019.

It started weeks ago. A writing class ended in November and I immediately started looking at what was next. My search led me to January on the calendar. It landed me in 2019. Un-resolutions. Soon, I was caught in anticipating and planning for the new year.

My mental un-resolutions started settling in my grey matter.

I will write more. I will submit more. I will pitch more. I will teach fewer community education classes and eventually, stop all together. I will make more cheese. And of course, this was all in addition to the ever-present health, relationships and wellness stuff.

It’s December 20th. Why wait?

A writing group coalesced into weekly meetings – with weekly writing goals. That resulted in submitting a writing piece I had workshopped for weeks. Then, I submitted it again, and again, and a few more times just for good measure.

Last week, I settled on a new writing class. That resulted in signing up for another and a third. To combat a long day, I found a new yoga studio and class to take a break between two classes.

Just today, I pitched a few stories and sought out new technical writing clients. After that, I started a new cookbook club and jotted down a sketch for my cheesemaking space. Teaching gigs evaporate by March. I resisted signing up for more and thus, erased an excuse I’ve used as a crutch.

Gasp.

That is a lot. Perhaps it is too much.

I am being ambitious. Perhaps I am too ambitious.

I am hopeful. Perhaps too hopeful or maybe not hopeful enough.

I am not saying I am going to get my shit together now. But, I am resolved to see my un-resolutions through.

Happy Cooking!