Finishing What You Started: No New Lists
In a conversation with friends recently I asked…
“Do New Year’s resolutions still exist?”
They looked at me puzzled and then I went on to explain that after a year like the one we’ve all had, it’s hard to imagine people creating New Year’s resolutions. From what I gather online and otherwise, we’re all just trying to get through each day, much less plan for the entirety of a year of which we seem to collectively have little to no expectations of. If there’s anything 2020 taught us, it’s to hold plans loosely.
I’m not anti-resolution. I’ve had plenty over the years. In fact, I still have one of the first lists I ever made back in 2001. Written in every colored pen I could find, I wrote out things like “wear as little make-up as possible!” (not a beauty blogger) and “exercise daily—unless I’m sick” (14-year old me was already overcommitted) on lined paper ripped from one of my early journals. Folded in two, I tucked the resolutions into one of my mom’s blue-plaid lined white envelopes used for paying bills and get this…dripped melted red candle wax along the edge to seal it closed. The only thing I forgot to do was sign in blood.
Since then, I’ve continued to make lists at the start of each year. Some lists have been short, some long, depending on how burned out the previous year left me. And in the last 7-8 years, I’ve typically chosen a single word to cover it all. Now if only I’d written those down somewhere…
Last year, my sister read something on a blog about finishing what you started. It was about not creating new resolutions but finishing or focusing on the ones left on your list from the year(s) prior. Instead of adding to our endless list of things to do, what if we gave ourselves the time and space to check off some boxes and actually feel a sense of pride and accomplishment for the things that have weighed us down for, perhaps, years? Or maybe there are some things that need to be crossed off our lists all together. Funny how when I look back, some of the goals that were once so important to me, now carry little weight.
What if we gave ourselves the time and space to check off some boxes and actually feel a sense of pride and accomplishment for the things that have weighed us down for, perhaps, years?
In a world that moves fast and usually on to the next thing, it’s not often that I give myself permission to finish things. Whether because the act itself takes longer than planned, or life happens along the way, time and grace are the greatest gifts I give everyone but myself. Some things take time, and others take more time.
Time and grace are the greatest gifts I give everyone but myself. Some things take time, and others take more time.
I’ve got a lot of thoughts on all of this that I’ll be sharing next month as we discuss rhythms. Like what it means to simplify my expectations, celebrating wins as a single person, and why being an editor makes me feel like a failure.
Until then, I’m inviting you to join me as I try to finish what I started. Instead of making new resolutions and lists, let’s finish what we started.
P.S. I did still choose a word for myself this year. It’s even printed in my Golden Coil planner—the writer’s equivalent of signing in blood.
Something to think about:
What is something you completed this past year that you’re really proud of?
What keeps you from diving into projects or goals on your list that you have yet to complete? Examples: books to read, a financial goal, home project, business venture, etc.
Journal it!
Dear and Love values asking intentional questions to help us process life and challenge the ways we think. Take time to process though these questions in a journal, on a piece of paper, or in a note on your phone. Remember: there are no rules, only space to see where your time, thoughts, and words take you.