At Least They're Committed

In years past, we’d empty a fancy bottle of wine (well, fancy for us), write down our resolutions for the coming year and then seal the bottle with cork and/or wax. We sheepishly dared to secretly confess our hopes for the coming months to later judge our alleged return on investment. I always made my goals. “Get my byline on the Internet,” “Get a new, daytime job,” “Get a promotion,” “Lose 10 pounds.”

But, alas, with time and children moving out and some people refusing to share their final tally at year’s end, we stopped this tradition two or three years back. Resolutions were then loosely spoken of weight loss and some benign vows that never came to pass.

It’s been nearly three years since I wrote “Rite of Passage,” and although it was followed by many moments of, “what a difference a year makes!” or “what a difference 14 months makes!” or “what a difference 2 years and 28 days makes!” nothing has changed really, only — as I still find myself now and again hunched over that clear pond — the reflections. The cast has changed, but little else, except perhaps that I’m wiser.

This year I have too much at stake; I’m putting my resolutions out there. If this is my last year on Earth, well, I’m going out with a flash. If I’m still here, no regrets, only new adventures and horizons. I’m pushing myself:

1. I’m reading six — at least — history books this year. Yes, they’re fucking boring and I’m not one to wallow in my own past, let alone anyone else’s, but it will help expand my mind and I need that. In fact, I’ve started reading Lions of the West and was really digging the prologue, with all the bits about how history isn’t what happened but rather a conglomeration of the people who made it happen channeled up into a single, inaccurate historical character. But then I fell asleep on page 5 of Chapter 1. A true challenge, indeed!

2. I shall take up a hobby. I really enjoy that latch-hook rug stuff, or I did when I was 18 and I think I still will, even though there’s nothing cool about it. I mean, they’re soft and I can make a neat design and Dez can play on it and stuff.

3. I shall heal thyself. I’ve gotten off track with my convictions and with my health. I’m married to my work and nobody has asked me to be, I’ve simply always been that way. I love my job, but I don’t have to live it and I shan’t, not any longer.

4. I will decide what I want and I shall have it/take it/do it. It’s that simple. I don’t ask for much, so it won’t be a problem.

5. I will find solitude.

Yes, I’m sitting by the side of the pool again, wearing the same brown shirt, but I’m no longer in Ellen’s house, I have my own room now and there are times my dog whimpers and cowers at things that enter, places I’ve gone and those that have come back with me.

I’m not going to fall. I’m going to get as much as I can. I will raise my hand up and shout, “Me! My turn!” this year, and if that hurts people well dammit I’m sorry. But if I’m to continue in this world, I can’t live for others all the time any more. Happy New Year.