How is it that Resolution is bold enough to think she can just waltz into the middle of my head and announce her arrival, like she fancies herself January royalty? Does she really think she can disrupt my banality with some noble life altering pronouncement?

How very entitled of her.

If I’m honest, retirement and quarantine protocols have left a trail of dust bunnies in my brain. Exactly the opposite of the bustling fulfillment center I’d conjured when I’d completed my doctorate, closed my wellness practice, and declared myself a free agent in 2020. Free for traveling, exploring new projects, heightened creativity, and a deeper dive into connections with those who bring me joy. Like an inner Marie Kondo approach where I jump into the next phase of life organized and energized. In a cute skirt.

Even I would give my 2021 reality show low ratings. I dined out (carryout counts), entertained, read low-challenging fiction, road tripped, dined out some more. More complacent than the first year of the pandemic, where I’d at least baked bread and picked up a ukulele. Until my fingers hurt, so I quit. Social media hurt, so I quit that too. My mom passed suddenly, so I quit more things like the renovation plans we’d started the previous year and the writing course I’d discovered. I needlepointed an ornament which may have been my top effort.

I’m not sure how the Resolution muse will rouse me, but if she comes marching through my head one more time, I may just claim one for my own. An experiment of sorts. Not the fill my calendar kind, or maybe it is exactly that. I won’t set the bar too high, but it’s time I let her in to clear the cobwebs.

Not before dinner though.

PS. I do still have a few traditions like kayaking on New Years Day. Here we are celebrating our 20th year of doing so.

Resolutions and My Year of Banality