I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions.
Of course, I understand that, without this construct, gyms would go broke in no time, tobacco companies would soak in more profits and healthy-eating zealots would choke on their celery sticks.
For me, however, I simply know myself too well. Too well to be deceived into thinking that my resolve to do something will suddenly be iron-clad, just because the calendar flicks over from December to January. If there are things I should be doing but I need to draw cosmic strength from the New Year to start doing them, then I suspect they are either not particularly important, or are so important and yet so difficult (for whatever reasons) that calendar-flicking is just one of many excuses I resort to to postpone real action. Continue reading