2010

"The art of progress is to limit your goals only to living." -Thoreau

This year, I had three resolutions. The first was to learn a ten-page Brahms rhapsody in G Minor by the end of January. I started strong, practicing every day, but was soon overwhelmed by the accumulation of homework and clubs. It is the 23rd of January, and I am now on page three. My second resolution was to give up chocolate for the year, the reason being my lack of self control around the stuff. I limited myself to chocolate chip cookies (which I began eating twice a week) and hot chocolate (which I was drinking everyday.) Soon, I realized that, in prohibiting myself from the candy, I had replaced the sugar many many times over with chocolate substitutes. On January 15th, I caved and ate fifteen Hershey's kisses for breakfast. I haven't eaten much chocolate since then, but it's safe to say that resolution no longer stands. Finally, I promised myself that I'd maintain a 4.0 through the end of junior year. And now that I think about it, this resolution wasn't really a goal; it was an expectation. So THAT went out the window. Basically, I've broken my resolutions about three weeks into the year.

But, really, when we make resolutions, do we make a defined plan in order to follow through on it? Or do we set goals because we're expected to, because we need something to say for the New Year's toast? I'm sure I subconsciously made these promises because I KNEW they wouldn't be done in time. I knew I'd cave--how can anyone expect me to stay away from chocolate, or learn the hardest piece I've ever played in under four weeks? In fact, I'm sure that because we make these promises, we're more inclined to break them; it's just how teenagers' minds operate.

I don't know why we set such high standards for ourselves: whether it be to humble us when we fail, or to set the goals so high that when we don't follow through, we're not heartbroken. But I DO know that I love chocolate, and that even though I know barely one hundred measures of the Rhapsody, I love playing it over and over on my piano. I know that rather than outlining my year with three little promises that will definitely be forgotten by October, I want to have fun and succeed this year. So I've decided to set a new resolution for myself--yes, a resolution made already 23 days into the new year. The only resolution I'll have for myself is to be great. And if that means being great at the first three pages of a Brahms piece, or learning a word a day to expand my vocabulary, or reading for pleasure for once; if it means dipping my toes in pools like research or skiing or playing a guitar, I want to be able to be great. It's not very unique or definite, but it's a resolution. And I think, with this resolution in mind, I'll be able to chill with my friends on December 31st of 2010 and say "You guys, this year was great."