New Year’s Resolutions

At the end of the year, columns and airwaves are filled with
discussion of New Year’s resolutions.
At the end of the year, columns and airwaves are filled with discussion of New Year’s resolutions.

People still make lists of all the ways they are going to improve themselves in the coming year: lose weight, get more exercise, spend more time with the family.

I’ve made similar lists, but this year I’m doing something different. This year I’m listing the things I’m not going to worry about any more.

For example, I decided it was time to quit trying to like contemporary classical music. I know, I know, if I studied it and understood what the composers were doing I might learn to appreciate it. Most of the time I believe in the “just one bite” rule, that you should try something before crossing it off your list.

But with difficult music, I’m going to give myself a pass. The super-intellectual, often screechy, atonal and arrhythmic symphonies, concertos and tone poems that have come along since, say, 1930 are going to remain unexplored.

Second, I’m going to formally acknowledge that I will never be an Olympic-level gymnast.

I first realized this in the 1970s when Nadia Comeneci dethroned Olga Korbut as the reigning sprite of splits. I hadn’t done as much as a somersault since I was – let’s say 6.

But somewhere in the back of my mind the fantasy was lodged that all life choices, including soaring over the parallel bars, were still open.

When I saw the latest adolescent gymnast, who had already been training most of her life, I realized there were some roads that I, at least, would never take. Going public with this now is a way of finally letting the fantasy go for good.

And finally, I’m not going to worry about high heels and makeup being tools of the paternalistic establishment.

As a feminist who grew up with the movement, I realized I’ve felt ambivalent for years about wearing girly shoes and eye shadow.

Early feminists regarded these as symbols of oppression, but for me, other instincts had been formed even earlier, so I found them alluring all the same. This year I’m going to abolish the self-imposed doubt and guilt, and wear any kind of shoes I can walk in, and any kind of face paint I can find the time to apply.

After all, isn’t feminism first and foremost about freedom of choice?

So I’m just not going to worry anymore about trying to like things that I don’t like, or trying to do things that are impossible, or trying to follow rules that don’t matter.

There’s too much good stuff out there to waste energy on impossibilities.

With the time and energy I save, I may be able to resume activities that are more fun and don’t require appearing in public in a leotard: watercolors, flying a plane, horseback riding, sewing and keeping the house clean are a few that come to mind.

May your new year be full of the good stuff.