Help… new year, same me!
The party streamers have been thrown away (along with those empty bottles of Cîroc) and that guy you kissed still hasn’t texted you back. New Year’s Eve might be over but darling, the party is only just starting.
If you felt particularly motivated to make 2018 great and then saw your enthusiasm dwindling with every tick of the clock on your first day back at work, don’t worry you are not alone! (and it doesn’t mean your year still can’t be great). My nutribullet, which is back in the kitchen cupboard until its reappearance next year, has led me to ask whether I’ve already failed myself… or is there a shot at ‘20-greateen’ redemption?
The whole debate around finite New Year’s resolutions is one which has confused me for most of my adulthood. My favourite motivation speaker, Robin Sharma is all for team ‘go-getter’, which has you waking up at 5am to go mountain biking around Rome or hiking up Mt. Everest. And then there is me, a person who grabs all the morning sleep I can get by exercising at night (I would rather lose a finger than an extra two hours of morning slumber). Yet, in the world of social media where one person’s spin class was more hectic than the next, is the way I execute my goals something to be ashamed of?
My 2018 New Year’s resolutions might not be as concrete as hiking a world heritage site or running a marathon, rather a combination of smaller, more insignificant things that add up to monumental happiness … like an hour of extra sleep or full cream milk in my tea.
So while @candilynnxox is climbing Lion’s Head at 6am, I vow to enjoy my mornings in bed. I plan on having my tea while reading the paper and cuddling my dogs for an extra hour each morning. Let me get this straight, there is nothing wrong with climbing a mountain, rather, my resolution this year is to do MORE of what makes me happy, when it makes me happy and with the people that make me happy.
Simply put, at the age of 27, if I feel like blogging at 9pm while The Kardashians play in the background, I will do just that. In doing so, my work will be no lesser than the work done by someone at 7am at a desk at their corporate job. My idea of evening walks with my Chihuahua, will be no lesser than someone’s hike up Signal Hill and my grilled chicken salad will be just as good as someone else’s vegan gnocchi.
What I’m trying to say is that in 2018, success is how we define it. Whether it be the concreate goals we’ve etched for ourselves on the pages of our diaries to be ticked off it due time, or moments (like snoozing our alarm) that make us feel really fucking happy to be alive.