I’ve always liked the idea of new year resolutions. There’s something sincerely inspiring about striving to be better come new year, after the explosive celebratory period of Christmas.
Many of us try to give something up; it makes sense. Everyone has an Achilles heel, be it wine, TV, or chocolate. For me it’s salt. I’m a self-confessed salt addict. An alco-chloric if you will.
Every year for the past six, I’ve given up salt in the new year, and every year, like Sisyphus finally reaching the top of that hill, the rock (salt) rolls back down over me and the progress ends. Mostly due to cravings, though one year due to sodium deficiency.
I’ve given up trying with salt. That’s right, I’ve officially given up giving something up.
But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on trying to improve myself.
In fact, I feel “giving up” something somewhat contradicts the overwhelmingly positive message of “new year, new me”. Why should we annihilate part of ourselves in order to improve ourselves?
Far more appealing to me is taking something up as a new year’s resolution – how many of us decided to take up baking or a new language while we were isolated in 2020.
I’ve resolved to write a lot more this year. I already love writing, so this year I’ve decided not just to start, but to finish some of my ongoing projects.
Starting, quite literally, now. First blog of the year!
Consider this blog a call to everyone reading not to “give up” this year, but to try something new, or to try harder at something that you’ll “get to later” (like I’ve always said I would with my murder mystery novel!). Take this new year as an opportunity to do something… not to not do it.