Contributing writer
To my knowledge, none of my grandparents ever made New Year’s resolutions. They were too busy surviving. My parents never made resolutions either. The first or last day of the new year was not capitalized. It was just like any other day except you needed a new calendar.
The calendars weren’t themed, nor did they buy them. They were free. Like yardsticks — you do remember those — calendars came from the local hardware, the bank, or the grocery store. With the advent of calendars as big business in the mall, my bank gave cards not calendars this year, encouraging my socializing and mathematical skills.
I haven’t always made resolutions at the beginning of the year; but I’ve always made them in an attempt to learn and grow, improve myself. About half way through life, I started making a list on New Year’s Eve. It sounded like a good idea, a fresh start, turning over a new leaf — which in itself harbored dissatisfaction with the status quo.
A group of family friends in California gets together at the end of the year and religiously writes their lists of resolutions and puts them in a box. The next year on the last day of the year, they come together and draw out one list to read to the group. My daughter is part of this group. She called the other night and said, “Guess what? My list of resolutions for 2010 was the one pulled out of the box. You can imagine my chagrin when they read the same things I’d just put down for 2011!”
We can relate, can’t we? Once again, I resolved to exercise more in 2011 — and did just that on New Year’s Day. I also resolved to lose 20 pounds, promptly crossed that out, and made it 15 — sounded more reasonable, on second thought, given the fact that it took me two years to lose the last 15 that, yes, I’d resolved to lose on a New Year’s resolution list.
On Sunday, I followed one of my resolutions to get the family pictures digitized and I opened up yet another box of photos that hadn’t been put in any kind of album and started scanning. In the bottom of the box, I found my resolutions for 1999. Whew! Ancient history. This as a list I’d made a year before we moved back to Kansas.
Ironically, “Move to Ramona,” wasn’t on the list. It was, I must add, a very long list. Twenty items of intent, typed on fancy paper, meant to be tacked on a wall or framed for constant viewing. This one was folded in half, in the bottom of the box, and wasn’t even rumpled which would have at least shown signs of follow-through. It was a pristine list of good intentions.
“So how many did you do?” I asked myself.
Where did I put that list? I had to stop writing and go hunting. When I found it again, I started to read this list in earnest, “A Beginning List of my Intentions.” Intentions? This wasn’t a list of resolutions, after all. Intention seems a more gentle word, pointed in a direction rather than set in concrete.
And the date wasn’t Jan. 1, 1999. It was Aug. 11, 1999. August? Well, I’ll be.
1. I intend to live life to its fullest. (Yes, I’m still doing that.)
2. I intend to be a blessing to those around me. (Unh-huh, still on track).
3. I intend to have my home be a safe place where I can rest and be refreshed1, where friends can come and be revived. (Worthy goal.)
4. I intend to think on all things good and true and bring them into my life. (Sometimes hard to accomplish.)
5. I intend to grow flowers and vegetables, to have lovely gardens, which nourish my soul. (A couple of weeks ago we finally got 600 tulip and daffodil bulbs in the ground.)
6. I intend to record the story of Ramona and release it to the world with ease. (I’m smiling because I’ve been doing just that and didn’t even remember that it was on any list.)
I kept reading and smiling at all these wonderful intentions in 1999 that continue to be a part of my everyday life 10 years later. I’d written them down, tucked them away, and hadn’t read them for 10 years. It was as if, once declared, that list of intentions became my life.
With so much to be thankful for, I pared my 2011 resolutions down to two:
“I hereby resolve to be grateful!” That’s the first one. “2. “I intend to love myself.” That’s the second one.
It’s 2011, just another day in the country, and I sincerely, naively, simplistically, fervently, believe that if we all had just those two resolutions this year. we’d change the world.