New Year’s Resolutions. Broken Resolutions?
How many of us have resolved to become a better, slimmer, fitter, kinder person in the year to come? And how many of us have broken our resolutions and admitted defeat before a month — possibly a week — is out?
If you haven’t, dear reader, you’re a very special kind of person and a cut above the rest of us 😉
Here in the hive we’re fully prepared to admit our failings.
So our resolution for this year — coming a little early in our Sunday blog, because 1st January occurs on a Tuesday — is to come clean about (at least some of) the broken resolutions from our past.
Asked to confess at least one broken resolution of previous years, this is what the hive members said. Feel free to gloat…
Broken Resolutions : Sarah tells the unvarnished
My broken resolution is a recurring one. “Bah,” I said a few years ago. “Bah humbug. Resolutions — who needs them? I don’t.
“Pointless.
“Senseless.
“Setting myself up to fail. I will not make any more resolutions. Ever.”
Yet EVERY DECEMBER I break that resolution.
There was the resolution to get out for more walks (that lasted until the weather changed).
Or the one to resume my daily yoga practice (Inspirational DVDs are still in their wrappings).
Or the ongoing one to eat more sensibly (but only after I have finished eating up the Christmas chocolate).
Sadly, I fear I am A Lost Cause.
However, there is one resolution I make every year that I do keep — NEVER give up hope!
Broken Resolutions : Joanna hangs her head
Two years ago, I said here on this blog that my resolution was to turn the pile of curtain fabric next to my sewing machine into at least one set of bona fide completed curtains. Did I?
Well, no.
You may have noticed that I went very quiet about resolutions for NY 2018. I was too ashamed to admit that, having had a whole 12 months to get my seamstressly act together, I hadn’t sewn a single seam.
And now it’s NY 2019 — that’s a full 24 months since that curtain resolution — and I still haven’t fulfilled it.
But I’ve had a tiny attack of remorse (or conscience?)
Much to my own surprise, I’ve completed ONE curtain, to cover a tall glass door. So the pile of fabric has diminished by the equivalent of one half of one pair. Only another five pairs to go.
My resolution for 2019 has nothing to do with curtains.
And I’m keeping it — resolutely — to myself.
Broken Resolutions : Liz comes clean
I make the same resolution every year.
Write more.
Eat less.
None of that nonsense about exercise. There are limits.
I have never got beyond week one in the past, so this year I’m trying a new approach and here are my New Year Resolutions for 2019.
Eat more carbs.
Never walk if I can ride.
Spend at least three hours on social media every day.
And write when I feel like it.
One week and I should be back on the straight and narrow.
Broken Resolutions : Sophie ‘fesses up
In my twenties I made an annual New Year resolution to give up smoking.
Usually on January 1st. Because I was hooked. Not on nicotine. On the lifeline. I was terminally shy and it kept people at bay.
In France Disque Blue gave me an excuse not to speak.
On hillside study groups I puffed away at a Passing Cloud — mentioned in a Golden Age detective story, but mainly I liked the cavalier on the packet.
And if I had to go to a party, I took my Black Russian camouflage.
Eventually, one mid January, I found myself being interrogated by a ten-year-old.
Why did I write stories? What were they about? Well, I couldn’t smoke in front of a ten-year old, could I? Without the prop, I was so flustered, I told her. And writhed.
“Stop grilling her, you monster,” said her mother, whom I didn’t know very well but clearly had a kind heart.
“But, Mummy, it’s so cool.”
Cool?
Cool! Calloo, callay, oh frabjous day, somebody thinks what I do is cool.
Who needs cigarettes? Or New Year resolutions for that matter.
And there you have it, dear reader. Broken resolutions, times four 😉
I have a book. Write them down and then don t look at them until it’s time to make some more. Ticks and crosses and off we go again. Most end up being shoved in again for the next year!
Made me laugh, Liz. Sounds like you’re on the Libertà wavelength.
We do keep trying, don’t we? I think that’s encouraging!
Ha, Ha, Liz, that just about sums it up!
That’s the spirit, Liz!
Always resolve not to feel guilty about breaking my resolutions. …But can’t seem to keep that one either.
Sympathies, Jane. That’s one reason why we four at Libertà decided to send up the whole process 😉
Ah well, Jane, at least you try. Feeling guilty is part of the process, I fear. NEver mind, there is always next year 🙂
I have to admit that i usually forget mine the day after I’ve made them. Was lying in bed on NYE thinking about writing a diary. Something witty and smart. I’m sure I’ve done that one before…
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A few years ago, I read, ‘Never make New Year resolutions on January 1st. Make them later, on March 1st. You won’t feel so frazzled and pressurised and you’ll be able to think more clearly.’ I thought it such sensible advice that I’ve followed it ever since. Quite why it works, I’m not sure.
My New Year Resolution is usually something small, like use my hand cream every morning – my hands were in a shocking state; with luck, it will become automatic. If it’s something big, it needs to be reduced to bite-sized, do-able, chunks. Like sew button back on red shirt (you may have a whole pile of sewing which needs to be done, but keep it small). Once the red shirt button has been sewn back on, then, and only then, add the next small item to the list.
That sounds like eminently sensible advice, Elizabeth. Never heard the 1st March suggestion before, though. Worth thinking about.
Oh Elizabeth, how sensible you are! But New Year is such a hopeful time, when we see the whole twelve months stretching ahead of us, clean and shiny and full of promise. Or at least I hope that is how it is for everyone. It is for me, at the moment, and I hope it will continue that way 🙂
That is such good advice. I can see why January 1st is the obvious day but it’s a horrible time of year. The only resolution we should be carrying out in January is to be kind to ourselves while we finish up the Christmas chocolate.
If I made resolutions (I don’t) I would be with Liz. There’s only one I make with any regularity, and not only on the 1st of January (what’s so special about an arbitrary date, anyway?) but every time I get stressed. And that’s to learn to say NO. Help me, someone…
Learn to say NO. Great advice, Lesley. Don’t we all take on more than we should, because we find it hard to say NO?
Prioritise, Lesley (huh, I am one to talk!!!) Family first. Then writing your wonderful books. Then your fabulous pantomimes. After that I don’t mind if you say no to everything else 🙂
That is such a tough one! Good luck, Lesley!
And of course January is a ridiculous time of year to start giving up comfort food or go jogging every day.
How true, how true. To be fair, it’s warmer than it should be for the time of year, but still ridiculous to go jogging in the dark.
Re: Saying ‘No.’ Queen Elizabeth I’s solution to this problem comes to mind. Whenever her councillors tried to pressurise her into marrying someone (on the grounds that only a man could be a proper ruler – a queen’s role was to produce sons) she would say, regally, ‘We will think on it!’ and sweep out.
Love it, Elizabeth, especially the sweeping out.
I need to practice the sweeping. I’ll start with the leaves in the backyard!