MIND MOVES:Self-improvement shouldn't have a deadline
I THINK it’s usually by now that people’s new year’s resolutions come entirely apart at the seams, isn’t it? Certainly mine have. For the first three weeks of January, I was up at seven, after which I would spend the next four hours eating all the fruit they say you should eat every day.
It didn’t stop there. I investigated goji berries. I invested in a new wardrobe. I had so many improvement books on my shelves that it was like living in a library. But at least I never tried to kid myself into believing that jogging was a decent idea.
Then there’d be those days where I’d think a couple of presses of the snooze button wouldn’t hurt, or where the après-pub trip to the chipper was somehow vaguely earned. I am now at the stage where if I don’t succumb to that third Star Bar of the afternoon, it’s a victory.
And, you know, that’s probably not the worst thing in the world. The project of self-improvement shouldn’t have a deadline or a progress report. Maybe there shouldn’t be standards to it, either. But that’s just because I find eating fruit really tedious.
See, for me, “resolution” has always been a funny word. When people use it to refer to a decision, I get an image of a jacket with plastic ribs sewn in across the back of it, the kind that would fasten your posture painfully backwards if such a garment actually existed.
There’s something poignant about our attempts to get it absolutely right, especially the ones that begin on January 1st and end soon afterwards.
For me, though, the best meaning of the word “resolution” is when it refers to the still, quiet core of strength that resides invisibly within us. If you tried to find it, it wouldn’t be there because it’s in everything we do. It’s the bit of you that is satisfied with getting up about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, if only to have a more leisurely breakfast. It’s there when you manage a wry smile when you find yourself panting after six minutes on the running machine.
Resolution is not hugely inclined to use the phrases “I should” or “I must”. I reckon it adds up to a pretty trustworthy impulse, even if its pace has more in common with Michael Palin on his rambles than Usain Bolt giving it loads on the running track.
There’s a couple of jokes from college we used to fling around a bit. One was: “Doing a degree: it’s like being unemployed, only your parents are proud of you”. That one was a bit bleak for my tastes, but one I did like was: “They’re not deadlines: they’re guidelines”.
To be fair, its practical implications do leave a bit to be desired. But when it comes to those aspects of your life whose progress isn’t measurable by the clock or the wage packet, I can’t think of a better motto.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating total surrender to the glorious gravitational pull of pure indulgence. Were I to follow that line then this article would be about the joys of the 15-hour lie-on. But I don’t think the way to form more useful habits for living is to tie yourself to a set of resolutions.
Habits sort of weave together at their own pace, and they weave together most strongly when their fit is reasonably loose. These days, I’m trying to put more of my faith in inclinations rather than obligations. After all, you can’t decide to stick to something. You can only build that attitude over time.
The weirdly paradoxical consequence of this is that I’m coming closer to my new year’s resolutions than if I berated myself into sticking to them. Okay, so I’m not up at the crack of dawn doing Gregorian chant, but things are a fair bit slower, a whole lot healthier and satisfying into the bargain.
The pursuit of happiness doesn’t have to feel like a sprint or, heaven forbid, like a jog. As they say, sometimes it’s not about the pursuit at all; it’s about letting your happiness come to you. Call off the search and go somewhere nice for lunch.
As for trying to get the best out of ourselves or “improving ourselves”, I really do believe that we get where we want to be all the faster by going more slowly in that direction. Which is kind of cool, and maybe even a little bit Zen.
TIM SMYTHis Youth Ambassador for Headstrong – The National Centre for Youth Mental Health ( headstrong.ie)
TONY BATESis on leave