Resolutions and Other Solutions

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      New Year’s Resolutions are among the most capricious of all human traditions. Because they are a) fanciful, b) impulsive, and c) usually unachieved. We make them half-heartedly, with mock-seriousness, and frequently after the third glass of champagne. They are significant in the same way that whip-cream toppings are significant: attractive to examine but lacking in staying power; tasty in the moment but quick to dissipate.

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     “Did you make any resolutions for the new year?” Hobbes asks Calvin.

     “Heck, no!” says Calvin. “I’m fine just the way I am! In fact, I think it’s high time the world started changing to suit me!”

     “How about you?” Calvin asks. “Did you make any resolutions?

     Hobbes, with an eye roll, replies, “Well, I had resolved to be less offended by human nature, but I think I blew it already.”

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     I’m sure that in my youth I made my share of resolutions, but I can’t say for sure, and   I certainly remember none. I’m not opposed to making them, understand, but I don’t think, in general, they carry a very faithful track record. Still, I suppose resolutions have their marginal value, like revealing what our inner child thinks about promises, maybe; or how making them helps us avoid making goals instead. To resolve takes no effort; to solve takes serious attention.

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     But this is way too preachy, isn’t it! Resolutions are, after all, intended to be a fun way to say goodbye to one phase and hello to another. They pretend that there is actually an ending and a beginning, a sloughing off and a renewing. Snakes do this to allow new growth and to eliminate parasites. Symbolically, so do we. Goodbye, 2024, you wrinkled, parasite-infested relic. Welcome, baby-fresh 2025!

 

Ron Wetherington