It is the third or fourth day of some sort of resolution I make. Already I have exhausted myself with the effort to remember to make space for the resolution in my filled to the brim day. I was supposed to post every day for the month of March and already I have failed. So, for me, this is where it falls apart.
If I can not manage to do this new thing for a few days in a row, then how will I do it for a mere 31 days in a row? If I can’t do it for so short a time, then it must be impossible. Wait, that is not what my inner voice sounds like. More like this, “If I can’t manage to do this new thing for a few days in a row, then I must be impossible.” My irresolute self really starts in. “Well, since you missed that day, there is no real sense in worrying about today because there is no way to make up for that lost day.” Once a few lost days stack up or dot themselves across my mental calendar, then the resolution is basically over for me. It all just falls apart.
And, this is always my battle in what seems like a never ending quest to become my own best self. The only comfort in this truth is that I am not alone. So many of us bonding over trying to become better. So many of us talking about who we might be if we could just become who we wish we were. So many of us living for the not-yet-but-almost self, that we are never really there when we are together. In the end, that is no kind of bonding at all.
I need to instead see my writing resolution or any resolution as a triumph of trying. I need to stare long at each link on the chain and not obsess over empty boxes on a calendar. And, perhaps most of all, I need to know that people need me right now. In the right now, I am already my own best self. No one can afford to wait for who I wish I could be.
Least of all me.