If this life of ours
Be a good glad thing, why should we make us merry
Because a year of it is gone? but Hope
Smiles from the threshold of the year to come
Whispering ‘It will be happier;”
Act 1, Scene 3
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A few days ago, I found the place in my journal where I wrote down the resolutions I had hoped to keep in 2015.
Give a fuck about your friends
Give a shit about your body
Make time for yourself
Stop sweating the small stuff
Be a bad-ass
There have been years where I’ve felt let down looking back at my resolutions, unfulfilled and disappointed. But not this year.
I looked at these goals I set for myself 12 months ago, and I felt proud. I didn’t knock them all out of the park, but for every one of them, I thought of moments in my year that I encompassed them.
I’m going to say something pretty offensive right now, but I’ll to say it anyway:
I think Yoda was wrong.
There is try. Not for Luke. Luke was definitely a whiny bitch that needed a kick in the ass. But for the rest of us, there is most definitely try. Because we are not Jedi. We are regular humans. We are imperfect, and we need to be okay with imperfection. We are not being asked to levitate a X-wing and save the universe. We are just trying to live our lives and be good people. This post has really taken a weird turn because I can’t stop thinking about Star Wars.
Imperfect. (I’m back on track.) We are imperfect. This is a really hard thing for me to grasp. I am an idealist and a dreamer and I construct these elaborate, grandiose plans and then when they fall short, I am utterly destroyed. My disappointment is harsh and deep.
But this year, embedded and implicit to all of the resolutions I made was a new mantra, that I didn’t even know I had pulsing quietly but steadily in my brain, getting louder and louder, until I realized what it was:
It doesn’t have to be perfect.
This was the resolution. This is the one that is hardest to accomplish. But it is the one that I will keep trying to fulfill. It was and is my perennial release. My constant unbinding.
With this, I can let go of so much and accomplish so much more. Instead of being hard on myself, and mean, and unkind, I can be compassionate, forgiving and loving. Instead of letting disappointment ruin my day, I can be flexible and optimistic.
I can look back and think, genuinely, that this year: I was resolved.
Or, better yet, resolved enough.
I wasn’t perfect, but I tried.
Tonight, I am putting my mantra to the test for my final release of the year. This night that is the most underwhelming night; it is comically anticlimactic. Or as John Oliver says, it is “the worst.”
My hair is in curlers, which I hope will retain its shape longer than 45 minutes tonight. I am going to put on a dress and heels. I am going to have dinner at a nice restaurant. And then I am going to go to a fancy bar’s New Year’s Eve party that I have won tickets to. I am going to drink fancy, free drinks. I am going to kiss the man I love at midnight. And some or all of it might be just like I have been building it up to be.
But probably not. Because life and everyone in it is imperfect. And it doesn’t it have to be perfect.
But, there is always hope that we can be happier.