I have found that having a word for the year is much better than a resolution. You can write it on your wrist in small letters, glancing at it every day and reminding yourself of the way you want to live. It can go through every branch of yourself. You can't fail at it.
A word for the year is something to guide you, to push you in the right direction and to get you thinking. When I have had a word for the year, I haven't looked in the mirror and felt like a failure, but that happens all too often with resolutions based around losing, forgoing and cutting out. With my words though (because it has always been words tangled around my bones-heart-tendons) I haven't ever felt like a failure.
In 2011, I chose positive. In 2012, I chose brave. And this year? I choose now.
It doesn't sound like much, but to me it is. I am a thinker, an introvert, content to mull over things in my head and plan things to the smallest details and hang back. These are all good things; they make me who I am, and more often than not, I like these qualities. But I also have a tendency to get a first flush of inspiration and ideas, and then put it off until another time, a better time. With my word for the year ahead, I hope to seize the moment when the ideas are fresh, and go for things, and dare to do something.
A year of now is a year of starting projects, and completing them too. It is a year of going for new challenges, and also recognising when my body and my mind need rest. It is a year of getting through a stack of books to read, and staying up late writing, and filling more sketchbooks, and and learning about photography. A year of now is a year of dealing with stuff, and confronting the gritty and horrible things, and moving on. A year of now is a year of good time management.
I am always apprehensive about the year ahead -- there are things to look forward to, but the plans aren't certain yet and I hesitate over getting too excited. I have so many goals for next three hundred odd days; things I'm not ready to share yet but am ruminating over nonetheless. My stomach is butterflies (the beautiful kind) and I look forward to sharing these stories with you in the months ahead.