Goal Creation
For many, today marks the halfway point of the first of a dozen months of resolutions. To those armies of folks who’ve remained committed to a personal endeavor of self-improvement, lo these last two weeks, I commend you. I love a good resolution, be it a promise to exercise more, eat less, or do more reading. To me, there is little more inspiring than envisioning a better version of myself- be it more fit, less stressed, or dripping in newly acquired knowledge obtained by any of a number of good reads. In fact, the visual that invites itself into my consciousness is so compelling, I can barely look away. It is the very best of self-actualization: power, clarity, grace. It is, dare I say… perfection.
Reality
It’s the next part that hangs me up. Instead of the seamless mornings I’ve envisioned, where everything runs smoothly from the sound of the alarm until I back out the driveway, I slog through self-imposed chaos and am forced to scramble. Reality reveals there is no gentle backlighting for the start of my day, with peaceful sunbeams winking encouragingly as I pack my workbag. There is, however, a familiar woman’s voice chirping ridiculously in questions like, “Where are my keys?”, “Where did I leave my coat?” and “Did I lose my phone again?” I wind up on the front step in a huff, rushing to get wherever I’m supposed to be, hoping I have everything I need. Already tired, a little hopeless, and sometimes a bit sweaty.
Self- Reflection
When the compulsion surfaces to reconcile what I’ve actually accomplished, against those things I could have or should have done, a wave of guilt rises in my gut. It leaves enough of a bitter taste to suggest goal setting just isn’t for me. It’s then that I retreat to old behaviors and unconsciously bid farewell to habits that may have served me, if only I could have enforced their implementation. As long as I can remember, this threat of failure has lurked at the edge of my consciousness, ready to steal the show and send me home.
Replacing Guilt
Make no mistake, guilt is a bully. The rub is that I’m more than fifty years old and with time, have grown a reticence to being easily pushed around, even if only by my own mind. Since there will forever be more to learn, to do, and to see, I’m shifting my attention there. Instead of perfection, I’m going to focus on learning, doing and seeing. I’ve come to realize that small acts, born of bits of information, can make significant impacts in life.
Recommendations for healthy living number in the millions online. However, to ward off resolution fatigue, I’ve assessed some that are smaller, still achievable pieces of larger goals.
If stopping alcohol entirely is too big of a lift, deciding never to drink on an empty stomach may prove a good first step.
If drinking the daily recommended amount of water is overwhelming, working to drink one more glass, cup or bottle than days or weeks prior can help not only to fight dehydration, but serve to develop a long-term habit.
If working out seems daunting due to lack of time, perhaps next-day preparation would be helpful. Even if it doesn’t result directly in a new workout regime, it may help mornings run more smoothly.
Meal preparation can assist in tracking fat and calories and free up precious time in the workweek. If the time necessary for this function sours one’s enthusiasm, consider the opportunity to provide a meal to a neighbor as part of the process. This act of kindness may lend itself to its own feelings of accomplishment, while simultaneously helping someone else.
A good night of sleep can be evasive for some of us. Studies have shown that spending time outdoors during daylight hours can help the body register the need for sleep at the end of the day. Taking a short walk to the mailbox, the car at lunchtime or around the block may assist in developing a healthy sleep schedule.
While I’m not the diehard resolutionist as some, I am committed to experiencing great things this year. I’m grateful for the humans and animals with whom I spend my life and look forward to curating ideas, big and small, as part of my journey.