For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved having order in my life. By order I essentially mean control, I’ve always thrived off of being one step ahead of the game and “in the know”- knowing about things before they were going to happen gives me a legitimate high. Along with a love of control, I have also always loved to plan. Some of my fondest memories are of me sitting in my mother’s classroom after school, with a bag of Funyuns and a Mr.Pibb (the school’s vending machine only had Pepsi products, a real tragedy I know), writing out my plans for the weekend BY THE HOUR. Yes, at the ripe age of seven I would whip out a piece of printer paper and a blue gel pen and map out what I was going to do on Saturday; these lists would usually include what Tv shows I was planning to watch, how much time I planned to spend playing Frogger, and which friends I hoped to convince my mom to schedule a play date with. While there’s nothing wrong with having control of your life and having plan (these aspects are needed to a certain degree in order to be a responsible adult), looking back I can see that my obsession with lists, maps, and itineraries was not healthy (or normal, like what a weird hobby for a child to partake in..). I’ve come to realize that my desire to plan out the events of my life inevitably leave me inflexible and in many cases unhappy (because life is life, things don’t always go as planned, which as you can assume leaves me in a real bind).
The past few months I have actively done my best to approach life with a far less “uptight” (this word has seemingly latched itself onto me- and I HATE it, but I can also understand why it’s been used as a descriptor for myself a time or two 😉) perspective. I keep my lists to a minimum, the only planning I do is lesson planning (definitely won’t be able to escape those), and I’ve accepted that not everything in life is going to fall in place as I planned. One of my friends, whose spent many nights listening to me complain about how my life is not going the way it’s “suppose to” (for her sanity there’s always a glass of wine or mixed drink involved too😊), sent me a meme the other day that inspired me to not only write this piece but to also quit doing something I’ve done since I was probably in diapers. This year, 2018, I will not be making any resolutions.
I feel as if our culture has made it a requirement to resolve to change yourself with the start of each year. I think it’s because we’ve all been convinced that each new year offers “a clean slate”- and we must as human beings make each year better than the one before. I have most definitely feed into that nonsensical mindset, making a strict list of goals/resolutions to abide by with the onset of the new year. Honestly, like most I didn’t ever achieve or stand by any of those goals which in turn lead me to being unhappy with myself. Granted, I know plenty of organized goal oriented people who map out their lives and plan every little detail of their existence- which there isn’t anything wrong with. I however, have a personality that just can’t handle not reaching a goal at a certain point- so my solution, to stop creating timelines for my life and replace goals with aspirations (I feel like aspirations are like goals low-key much more chill cousin, that was a terrible comparison I know…).
While I still haven’t perfected the art of “letting go” and being okay with the pace my life has taken, I’m content with the fact that I’m no longer planning out every second of my day. I don’t need resolutions or time stamps in order to have a successful year, so long as I stay motivated and continue to be a good human; I’ll be content with myself. My life drives at its own pace, and while I don’t always agree with its speed, I’m just going to hang out in the passenger seat from now on because at the end of the day it’ll take me to where I need to be.
Catch you on the flipside!