There are 365 days in 2024—how can one best spend them?
Between family, friends, finances, self-improvement, community involvement, creative pursuits, health, happiness and all of the struggles, big and small, that stand between oneself and perceived “success,” it can feel almost impossible to stay focused on resolutions…even those that one once deemed important enough to resolve to carry into the new year with them.
For some reason, resolutions rarely stick—even the significant ones. And more often than not, something happens in between that first and 52nd week of the year, something that strips away that post-holiday hubris and stalls out the very same perseverant spirits that originally propelled into the new year dead-set and intent on finding purpose or reaching an aspiration or searching for some raison d’être that will maybe help to ascribe meaning to the ever-quickening passage of time.
No matter how much importance a person assigns to some achievement or another at the beginning of the year, there is absolutely no guarantee that they will see it through all 365 days. In fact, the reality is that many New Year’s resolutions won’t even make it past Valentine’s Day—but it doesn’t have to be that way, at least not here in the North Bay, anyway.
But that’s jumping ahead of the still-unexplored and soon-upcoming explanation of New Year’s resolutions and why they always seem only one frayed thread’s breadth away from slipping away, much like Sisyphus’ rock as it rolls catastrophically down from some intangible, endless mountain top of productivity into yet another failed attempt at…what, exactly?
The way these resolutions are presented and perceived, at least in the context of this current, shared society and its staggering standards, it pushes this idea that the real reward of New Year’s resolutions only goes to those who resolve to strive toward some contrived version of social-media-worthy perfection. Where the already beautiful, successful and talented people of the world still cover themselves in filters to eliminate their pores and curate an image so meticulously cultivated, it falls straight into the uncanny valley where werewolves, unicorns and this idea of perfection share the same unreal liminal space.
This obsession with reaching the imaginary concept of perfection plays an enormous role in how everyone approaches their own personal sense of achievement.
This is as true in Marin as it is anywhere else, especially considering that everyone here lives in a county that is so close to the bustling city of San Francisco, where work burnout is as common and easy to spot as Christmas lights in December.
See, somewhere along the long journey of life, this idea of chasing after things like achievement, productivity, perfection and being the best version of a person possible it sort of ousted and took the place of more real kinds of resolutions, those that focus on the pursuit of more personal achievements and goals that actually lead to a sense of fulfillment—but the process of untangling that web of what is important as an individual from that which is imposed by the world at large…well, it’s hard, to say the least.
But maybe, just maybe, these 365 days of 2024 don’t have to follow the same pattern of perfection-seeking resolutions as some previous years and New Year’s resolutions.
Consider for a second the most common resolutions people promise to commit their time, energy and sense of self-worth to with each new year:
“I want to lose at least 15 pounds,” says the person who is already a perfectly acceptable weight.
“My resolution is to climb that corporate ladder, work as much as I can this year to finally get that promotion,” says the person who really just wants to get decent enough pay to take a vacation.
“This year, I’ve decided I’m going to save money by not eating out at all and cooking at home instead,” says the person who loves their monthly pizza night more than anything, but feels bad spending money on something that makes them happy because it isn’t a necessity.
All of these examples of New Year’s resolutions can absolutely—in theory—be authentic, healthy goals…but, in all honesty, they usually aren’t. Instead, they feel a bit like self-imposed punishments for not being the “best version of you.”
Or, in other words, New Year’s resolutions have transformed into some sort of end-of-year recrimination for one’s own perceived imperfections rather than anything that aims to add some happiness day-to-day.
What if, instead of finding ways to change this year, the citizens of Marin instead chose to focus on what kind of positive change they could create within the community?
What if, instead of restricting calories, dieting and buying an expensive gym membership to lose those 15 pounds of fat, that person invested all of that time and energy into an active volunteer group?
What if, instead of working long, unpaid hours of overtime for a promotion that is not guaranteed, someone chose to devote that time toward starting a union or even developing their own business from a passion they’d long forgotten?
What if, instead of opting out of that once-a-month pepperoni-covered takeout treat that brings such delicious, cheesy delight into their life, that person perhaps planned to save up in some other small, seemingly insignificant way and resolved to throw an entire pizza party every other month to celebrate their favorite food?
These may be silly examples, but the point is this—why resolve to make the coming year worse when one can resolve to make it better for everyone, including oneself, instead?
Marin County and all of its citizens, cities and the incredible landscapes in between are practically overflowing with some of the most amazing opportunities life could provide. And, when it comes down to it, resolutions are better when they aren’t framed as a punishment for imperfection—or, as some would call it, the human condition.
Instead of seeking to fix something that isn’t broken this new year, perhaps seek instead to find some incredible new experiences, people and places and let the memories made be the kind that can be remembered and warm one’s heart in not only the coming year, but the coming decade, half-century and entire life after that as well. Resolve to have more picnics in Point Reyes or to spend more time being a tourist in and around the county or to do whatever other small things spark some joy.
So, consider the remaining, already-dwindling days left in 2023 and don’t allow them to slip away without really considering: How are 365 days really best spent?