I don’t recall ever being against the idea of New Years Resolutions, although I usually chuckled (sometimes not just to myself) at the boldness of some made by friends and acquaintances. You know, the ones with specifics attached that almost certainly doom the resolution.
“I will read 24 books this year.” No, you won’t. I mean, maybe that person over there will, but you? No.
“I will work out three times a week and lose 25 pounds.” Oy. Why not just write the “work out” part in ink and don’t worry about the pounds?
Before last year (New Years Day 2024) I never once wrote down a resolution. But, thanks to some changes in family traditions, I, my wife and the kid joined my sister’s family traditions of stating the goals, recording them and, at the next year’s annual meeting, have them scored. One point for completed resolutions, a half point for partials, and, of course, bupkis for the unachieved.
I kept my declarations modest (read, achievable) for 2024. “Read six books,” for example. I read all the time, of course, magazines, newspapers, reports, etc. But my great joy is reading novels and long non-fiction. And I just hadn’t done as much as I used to—or want to—in past years. The family includes audio books in that equation, but I did want to achieve the goal with the page-turning variety. And I did it! (And got one audio book in there, too.)
Also, “write more.” Which seems a low bar, but wasn’t for me. I used to be a regular journaler, but that had slowed considerably the last few years. (This, in part, was a conscious decision, for reasons that will no doubt appear in upcoming blog posts.) I crushed that, damn near filling a notebook for 2024, and also typing some in my iPad notebook when the journal wasn’t handy. For comparison, I didn’t fill a quarter of a notebook during the previous two years.
My resolution list wasn’t long (seven), but I got 5.5 points. Not bad. But I’m not the one in our household who deserves a pat on the back for 2024.
That would be my daughter, who was ambitious with at least a dozen resolutions. And while her total score on those wasn’t huge (four, maybe?), most of her accomplishments in 2024 weren’t written down as resolutions. Chief among them was heading off to a two-week camp in July—two weeks away from home, without her parents. Also, none of her friends were going. She had to make new ones.
It was a shock to the system for a shy kid. But, when we talked about our experiences with camp growing up, she warmed to the idea. We looked for a camp similar to the ones we did growing up: nothing fancy, just outdoor activities that an urban kid isn’t regularly exposed to: canoeing and kayaking, horseback riding, swimming in a lake, hiking, campfires and other group activities. Sleeping arrangements were old (but well kept) cabins. Two things we liked in particular were: it was an all-girl camp, and no smartphone or other devices allowed! Still, when the day arrived to depart, the nerves set in and some tears were shed as her cabin counselors led her off.
When we picked her up, however, when asked by a counselor if she would come back to camp, our daughter said she would like to do that. That there is some progress!
The three-hour drive home was filled with stories. She showed her prowess with archery, winning a couple awards. She rode horses and spent time in kayaks and canoes. Most importantly, she made friends, one from Montana and another from Mexico, and they still write each other. Two weeks in the woods on a lake in the life of an 11 year-old (at the time) injected a life-altering dose of confidence and memory.
That confidence in herself carried into the school year, with good grades and test scores. She continues with violin lessons (sometimes grudgingly) and her instructor keeps noting her skill with complex pierces at recitals. As one who shied away from team sports, she dialed in with the athletics she has chosen. She continued JOAD archery lessons at a local indoor range and earned a ranking pin. She dialed in her effort with speedskating and began winning ribbons on race days, completing a sweep for blue at the last one in all three distances. These efforts, I think, have helped her manage the expanding drama typical of junior high school—she doesn’t get too wrapped up in what other kids think of her.
That kid is the winner for 2024 accomplishments, points be damned.
Among my resolutions for 2025: read eight books. Also, write more—specifically for my mostly dormant websites.
Well, here’s the first post for 2025. Onward!
