Post-Birthday Resolutions

Some people make New Year’s resolutions. I’ve never seen the point; after all, the only thing that changes on January 1st is your calendar page. In the morning, you’ll get up and look around, and realize that the new solar year strongly imitates the last one.

But making resolutions after a birthday makes sense. Something has definitely changed, you’re a whole year older (whether you feel like it or not). And the idea of an entire 365 days passing and possibly not much change coming to your life can be daunting.

It can motivate you to action.

While striving for the moon isn’t always necessary, especially if you’re in a job, a home, a life you like, it’s important to be aware of brewing discontent. It might huddle under the surface, prodding at you now and then, until it becomes a constant prickle of irritation. Then an event or particular instance can catapult you into the realization: You’re another year older, and your achievements are lacking, you aren’t satisfied, you don’t see goals being accomplished.

So, what do you do about it? Write down a list, put it in a drawer, and forget about it?

No.

You write the list, or not, and set out to cross items off.

I don’t have specific plans in mind for the next year of my life, but there are certain things I want to work on more, and I think doing so will only be a benefit. Too often, fear keeps us from rocking the boat, and later we may incur regrets. At the end of my life, I don’t want that to be me.

So, proceeding, how do I see my days playing out?

I want to employ the courage to speak up more. Not in a political or social justice way; I already have little trouble voicing my opinions on the matters I feel passionate about. But on things that require sticking out my neck in a more personal way.

For example, about 2 weeks ago, I was in the library, picking out Muffin’s prizes for the summer reading, and I noticed that on the prize shelf was a full set of Maggie Stiefvater’s The Wolves of Mercy Falls. White Fang has had his eye on obtaining the series since he read the library’s copies, and fell in love, a few months ago. Not all that long ago, I would’ve panicked about asking the librarian if those books could be set aside as White Fang’s reward when he finished his reading challenge. But guess what I did? That’s right, I wrangled us free Stiefvater. And having that carrot dangling spurred White Fang into completing the challenge that had been taking well over a month.

I also want to take my time more and enjoy the journey, rather than concentrating too heavily on quantity of production. The other day, I was feeling like other indie authors are so much more well-known than me, and that I’m somehow falling behind. But then, when I realized that in the space of 14 months, I’ve released 4 titles, that my work is well-loved by those who have read it, and that I actually had an article on writing Christian fantasy published in a web zine this week — well, then I just felt silly for worrying.

(By the way, for those of you who are interested, the article can be found here: http://speculativefaith.lorehaven.com...)

Although I do hope to make some decent wages off my book sales, it shouldn’t come at the expense of losing my joy in writing itself. Lately I have not been feeling it, and that’s bad. The thing about creative endeavors, whether part of their purpose is to bring in money or not, is that they need to bring joy to their creator.

So, by the same token, I don’t want to spend my time attempting to refuel my creative tank with styles or genres that simply aren’t for me. I feel I’m truly at an age now where I shouldn’t have to apologize for liking the things I like, and keeping up with every single new thing of every single minute isn’t required. I no longer see the need to bang my head against the wall with authors or movies or music or TV shows that just don’t appeal. My life will grow richer minus the consistent hunt for the “hot now.”

I also want to appreciate more what I have in this moment, not fret too much about what will happen tomorrow, or next week, next month, without certain things. Being aware of what’s coming up and what has to be done is a good, solid way to carry on; however, I don’t want to sacrifice the present as a result of being too focused on the future. Muffin and White Fang will only grow up once, and I don’t want to miss it because I’m always concerned about how their lives will be in 20 years.

If the ultimate goal is to make every day count, then let’s start with today.