For years, I took the setting and pursuit of New Year’s Resolutions quite seriously.
It is not so much that I no longer do. It is simply that I no longer wish to anguish over resolving to accomplish things that I most likely will not.
Despite that, I have made some serious efforts to improve myself of late, even as I turned fifty years of age this past December. If anything, the years that I spent reading and thinking about self-improvement are finally beginning to come to fruition, albeit later than I would have liked.
Do I have it made?
Hardly. Quite the opposite.
In fact, it was most likely after I admitted to no longer harboring very strong ambition for a new, “better” job than the one that I have held for the past fifteen years, that I finally began inching toward the Abundance Mindset that seems to come so naturally to some of my friends and my younger brother instead of the scarcity mindset that was somehow drilled into my head but not his.
My goals are much more strongly aligned with achieving both a healthier mindset and body, so I can make it to retirement with the ability to enjoy it for many years and to begin generating my own raises via increasing my own streams of revenue rather than waiting for my blundering boss to approve a two-and-a-half percent raise.
That said, I did set some fairly audacious goals via making New Year’s resolutions in years past.
When the calendar turned from 1997 to 1998 twenty-three years ago, I actually wrote to “start a family” on my list of resolutions. Little did I know that my now twenty-two-year-old son was already gestating. My wife told me right before Valentine’s Day in 1998 that we were expecting later that summer. We lived in a truly crummy apartment in Rogers Park at the time and I will never forget the mixture of intense joy and anxiety that I felt upon hearing that news.
I resolved twenty years ago this month, in January of 2001, to move out from the crappy condominium unit that we bought after living in Rogers Park for three years and to purchase a single-family home. Eight months later, we were signing the reams of papers including a mortgage note on the home where I sit and write this today.