I hate New Year’s resolutions. Every year I make the same ones, and every year they go out the window by about January 2nd (except the one to floss more regularly – I did pretty well with that one).

Maybe it’s the term ‘resolution’. If you have to resolve to do something, it’s likely something that’s not very pleasurable. I also spent too many years on the school debating team hearing the phrase “Be it resolved that…”.  Now, whenever I hear the word resolve it makes me argumentative.

But what else to call them? Goals sounds too concrete. And too easy to beat yourself up over if you fail. Hopes sounds too nebulous. Aspirations, maybe?

So instead of making a long list of things that I’ll both fail at and forget within a week, I’m going to try and spend the next year aspiring to one thing: being a better role model for my son.

Of course, being the type of detail and list oriented person I can’t help but think how that’s going to break down. I want to read more, write more, and blog more than twice a year. I want to make healthier choices around what I eat and I want to exercise more. I want to be kinder to myself, to accept myself and others for what we are rather than what I think we should be. I want to find a way to live life less chaotically, with more intention.

And to finish this goddamn PhD.


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