Resolutions for the New Year

What are your resolutions for the year?

"For last year's words belong to last year's language.

And next year's words await another voice."

— T. S. Eliot

For the past three days, my feed has been flooded with New Year's resolutions. They all sound impressive. But I keep wondering: whose life are these for?

From losing weight to taking a break from social media — these are all great ideas. But are they sustainable? And what do they even mean?

So many people have a vision of who they want to be and completely ignore who they already are. Or they admire someone, think they're super cool, and want to be like them — without recognizing the fantastic manifestation they themselves already are.

You don't need to become someone else to make a good resolution. You don't need a new personality, a different body, or a more aesthetic life. You don't need to borrow someone else's goals just because they photograph well or sound impressive out loud.

What's more useful — and more honest — is to look at your own life as it already exists. Your actual days. Your energy, your constraints, your pleasures. The things that already matter to you, even if they don't look like a "fresh start."

Good resolutions don't ask, Who do I want to be instead? They ask, What am I already building — and how can I support that?

When I asked myself that question, here's what surfaced:

• Be more present.

• Stop collecting things (including Wizard of Oz and Wicked items).

• Read 12 books.

• Try 6 new restaurants.

• Start saving to go to Tokyo in summer 2027.

• Eat more ice cream.

Some of these resolutions are specific. Some are intentionally not. That's part of the design.

Goals often need to be quantifiable. Resolutions don't. What does "be more present" mean, exactly? How much is "more" ice cream? I'm not attached to precise answers. I just want to improve those things.

The same goes for saving for Tokyo. How much am I saving? I don't know yet. I haven't redone my budget. What matters is that the intention is there — that the energy is moving in that direction. The plan will follow. I'm just excited to take my son to Tokoyo Disneyland!

It's like saving for a house and opening a savings account with $25 in it. Financially, it barely makes a dent. Energetically, it's huge.

"Stop collecting things" might be the most concrete resolution on the list. I have a lot of stuff. I'm planning to sell my Oz collection soon — yes, really. So why would I buy another Oz Funko Pop? I don't need it, even though it's cute and I already own most of them.

I also don't need to keep the identity of Oz Collector, even though it's been part of my adult life for a long time.

Read 12 books and try 6 new restaurants are the most straightforward. One book a month. One new restaurant every other month. Very doable. In fact, I'm meeting a friend today, and she chose a place I've never even heard of.

And here's the thing: reading books is fun. Trying new restaurants is fun. Eating ice cream is fun. I want to be someone who enjoys my life — not someone who's always working toward enjoying it later. These resolutions aren't about self-improvement in the grinding, aspirational sense. They're about making space for pleasure that's already available to me.

That's the real work, I think.

I don't expect these resolutions to change my life overnight. I expect them to change my attention. To nudge me back into the life I'm already living — the one with real days, real limits, real pleasures, and real momentum. If something on the list evolves, loosens, or even falls away, that doesn't mean it failed. It means it did its job.

Resolutions don't need to be dramatic to be meaningful. They just need to be kind enough to last.

Next year's words await another voice, Eliot said. Maybe the voice they're waiting for is the one you already have — the one that knows what you actually want, what you actually enjoy, and what you're actually building. That voice doesn't need a fresh start. It just needs you to listen.

I am grateful.