New years resolutions are notoriously easily given up on. Nonetheless, the ending and beginning of our manmade and arbitrary calendar year ignites newfound motivation within me — no matter how futile I know this energy is. Designated time to check in and reassess is always good to set aside, and this year, I found myself wondering, “Are the habits that have carried me over the past year actually just habits I’ve fallen into?” So begins my mental journey into a future that might instead be in my grasp this time, just so long as I tighten my grip and pack my schedule. In all of this frenzy of what to do next and what to do differently, the more important questions of who I want to be and how I want to feel often get treated as if what I do and who I am are one and the same. Fortunately, they are not!

I’ll give myself some credit, most of the habits I have my mind set on developing this year are attuned to checking in with myself more, being more present, and practicing taking myself out of my comfort zone. On the surface, these all feel like healthy habits to have in mind, but this is where the question of intention comes in. Have I set these goals so that my day-to-day life becomes more peaceful and true to who I want to be, or have I set these goals just for the sake of accomplishing them, because accomplishing them will somehow validate all my self-doubt?

Sometimes it can feel counterintuitive to try to reduce my judgment of myself by practicing patience when it so easily becomes another way to try to fix my brain. The cycle repeats itself and the language of challenging myself to live up to deep seeded and abundant potential transforms into language of self-improvement and capitalistic productivity. To strive to make more art, read more books, and meditate are ways of tapping into the knowledge that there is something greater than the self. So, how do they become habits catered to the obsession that the self must instead be the greatest?

“Winds of various intensities and directions push and pull me through life, but when it’s at its best, my unwavering, unquantifiable sense of self reminds me where I should be.”

I have for so long believed that if there is anything about myself to be proud of, it is who I am. Rather than what I’ve accomplished and the skills I put on my resume that change in value depending on external factors, I’ve possessed an understanding that the person I am beneath all of that is actually what’s worth putting at the forefront. That person and that sense of self is hard to quantify, but it’s the kind of thing that can't help but come through in the way I engage with others and the genuine, sometimes illogical, connection that’s made between hearts and minds. For instance, think about a friend you have, who, on paper, you have nothing in common with, but in real life, your energies spill over with magnetism and joy.

The urge I have this time of year to improve my quality of life is well-intentioned, but there’s a difference between attempting to change myself to meet some hypothetical possibility of my “better” version and leaning into the process of becoming a more confident and present version of who I’ve always been. To think that I have to change my routine, my hobbies, and my life comes from a place of lack. Shifting to remember that I’m in a process of preparation and offering myself what I already possess — but perhaps haven’t quite tapped into — is an entirely different feeling. It is a feeling that encourages me to slow down when I need to, knowing I’ll catch up on whatever it is another day, instead of making myself miserable in order to check off my to-do list. That empty box is not reflective of an emptier me, only that I will be able to fill it when I myself am full! It’s more important that I immerse myself in the joy of life’s various tasks and activities when and if I get around to doing them. Otherwise, every book just becomes another one to finish, every workout just becomes another one to get through, and my life becomes just another one that awaits death. 

To some extent, the things we do can define who we are, but I find that well-intentioned goals can slip into the driver's seat without me noticing — leaving my sense of self to fluctuate rather than ground me. Winds of various intensities and directions push and pull me through life, but when it’s at its best, my unwavering, unquantifiable sense of self reminds me where I should be. No matter how many skills I am determined to add to my arsenal, I always seem to forget that those skills will rarely improve who I am. They might give me something more to offer others but self-satisfaction is not achieved with a never-ending list. The undefinable, at times transient, essence of myself is the only thing that might so much as give me a clue as to why I’m here and why I keep forging ahead. 

As temperatures start to warm, days become longer, and as a result, the synchronicity of nature and humanity causes my energy to rise; I’m naturally in a better place to take on new goals. Reexamining habits and goals is not just a January problem, nor does it have to be a January problem at all. It can be an opportunity to step into any time of year. My new resolution is to value the small steps I’m taking each day so that reaching my goal or checking off my to-do list can be less daunting. When the task of completion no longer holds such power, we can shift that power to the act of doing. Doing, without the constraints of quantity and quality, can become improvising. Improvising, after all, is living.