Resolute
I don’t write them. Resolutions.
Instead, I consider what it is that has slowed me down or held me back and try to shift myself away from that. I can’t make any promises though, because most of these behaviors were born out of necessity and I know better now than to assume all I have to do is STOP.
The punishing comes with the inability to STOP doing the thing that saved my little self, that gave me buffer or comfort.
Gently, I say now. To myself. Go gently. And keep my eyes lowered and focused in the direction of all that I hope I am capable of.
I do not choose resolutions, instead I choose to be resolute, determined, and focused. Giving myself permission to believe in possibilities bigger and more profound that just turning on the mortal coil until I miss this moment here in front of me.
At a NYE gathering, a woman I didn’t know proclaimed with feigned indignation that because there were so many Broadway stars living in our towns, her child believed it was possible/likely that she too would be a Broadway star. This after spending a good amount of time bragging about the accomplishments of her children without asking much about me or mine or anyone for that matter. I suggested she might consider, why not her daughter? Why couldn’t it be?
And if there is a resolution or, in my case, a birthday wish (Today is my birthday.), it is to STOP believing that it couldn’t be me. To catch myself when doubt hits the buzzer before hope, to pull my hand back before committing to ‘no.’ To know that ‘possibility’ is more than what we have already witnessed as possible, to allow that possibility is just the exclusion of ‘impossible’ in our consideration of what can be. Not a resolution, but a proclamation.
Anything too tight that cannot be expanded will have to go. I’ve felt it first across the shoulders and the hips, then the buttons and necklines that squeeze at my throat. When I find myself unable to speak up, I know I need something in which it is easier to move, in which I might breathe more deeply. Steadfastly. Focused.
There isn’t a list. Only the places where the tread is worn, the groove too smooth to gain traction, the light too dim to find myself, where I allow it could all be done another way. Gently. Gently, I say now, and step forward.
The distinction between resolutions and being resolute is subtle but powerful. It shifts the frame from external checklist to internal compass. I've noticed that most failed resolutions come from trying to adopt behaviors that don't actually align with who we're becoming. The part about catching doubt before it hits the buzzer reminds me of a meditation tecaher who used to say we can't stop the first arrow (the thought) but we can avoid shooting the seocnd one (our reaction to it). Happy birthday, btw.
Stephanie, I love this. Be resolute.