I'm an anti-resolutionist. Mostly. Last year I resolved not to continue teaching my teenagers a lesson by waiting for them to replace a roll of toilet paper, because the only one in the house it bothered, was me. So I resolved to just do it. Yes, like Nike, but without swish or athletic inclination. And that's what I did. And still do.
The lesson I learned from my toilet paper resolution is that little things can make a big difference, and that my resolutions need to benefit me and me alone. I do a lot of things for a lot of other people. I tend to be last on my list, no matter how many Oprah episodes I watch.
2010 was good to me, or more accurately, I was good to myself and good things happened in 2010. And it's a trend I'd like to continue in 2011. But setting mountainous goals backfires for me. I'm a one-step-at-a-time, stop-to-smell-the-roses, inch-by-inch, cliche´ loving kinda gal. So instead of resolving to finish that second novel and start the third, instead of resolving anything that is out of my control in regards to my novel that is out on submission, I'm thinking small. And I'm thinking that small can lead to big things. Or at least I'm hoping.
My writing resolutions for 2011 do not include writing. But they will all affect my writing. I hope.
First, I'm going to clean off my desk. Second, I'm going to sit at it. I often put the laptop atop my lap and I'm much more production in my ergonomic chair at my wooden desk with my little chachkes and photos and appropriate lighting. Third, I'm going to start reading more blogs. Maybe not every blog every day or even every week, but I'm going to expand my list of writing blogs because new words from new voices are inspiring. Next, I'm going eat more fish. I hear it's brain food and a little boost would not be a bad thing. I also like it and know it's good for me. I'm also going to continue my trend of doing my own nails. No manicures (or only the occasional one) saves money, but having manicured nails means that when I am doing all the typing I do -- I'm not looking at scraggly hands. I can write in pajamas or sweats, with my hair in a clip but if my nails are done -- because I can see them -- it's a good thing for my psyche. Lastly, at least for now, I resolve to give myself a break. A break to do something because blogging and tweeting and Facebooking and writing and editing. It might be a General Hospital break or a coffee break or a book break or a dog break. It might be a shopping break that doesn't include a grocery cart.
Stepping away can be the best way to get back in, or so I've heard.
Happy New Year!