In the past I have disliked New Year’s as a holiday. First, I was always crumpled with the holiday fatigue. It seemed like post-Christmas days could be lovely downtime where one enjoyed the holiday spoils. Instead, I found myself in a dazed state, with reserves compromised by holiday indulgences and all my meager energy channeled into more celebrating and ambitious “resolving”. “Downtime” seemed to have its own pressures: finish all those year-end donations, visit all the exhibits about to close (along with approximately one million tourists), and see the good movies crammed into the end of the year to better contend for Oscars. All this while comparing my resolutions to the end-of-year lists flying around: all those accomplishments, all those ambitions. It’s no wonder that just the idea of “resolutions” made me feel exhausted!
I am happy to report that by practicing yoga, I have successfully moved away from that special kind of craziness. But, a question persisted: why all the celebration? Having formerly gotten myself into a tizzy, now I wanted to ignore the hype completely and just let life proceed; New Year’s Day is just another day, right? Well, on reflection, I think the fact that we create a demarcation in the flow of days, and call it a “new” year does have importance. To avoid acknowledging the shape of our culture feels like avidya, the yogic idea meaning delusion or ignorance. In yogic thinking, we are encouraged to find balance. We cultivate ahimsa, non-harming or compassion for all, including ourselves. It occurred to me that the compassionate thing would be to find a way to make friends with the whole New Year thing.
As I began to treat myself better, I stopped making resolutions. What I find problematic about resolutions is that they imply self-judgment. When you “resolve” then it follows that you must either succeed or fail. It seems just the act of employing judgment biases the results towards failure. Confirming my suspicions, I learned recently that telling people your resolutions actually makes you more likely to fail because your brain hears the resolve in your statement and decides that it’s a done deal then unmotivated to actually make it happen.
Gradually, in the place of rigid resolve, I have developed a practice of intention. Our brains have a different attitude toward intentions. When you make a positive statement, in the present tense, describing what it is you intend to manifest as if it were already true, the mind believes it and supports that creation. For me, creating intention involves looking at my strengths and passions and carefully encouraging myself in that direction. It is not possible to fail with this approach. When I go astray, I simply return to the focus and compassionately decide how to align my intention accordingly.
Having made the shift away from resolution and toward intention, now I am grateful for the New Year’s holiday. I enjoy the opportunity to reflect and establish a personal intention. I incorporate my intention into my daily practice through journaling, art making, meditating, mudra and movement. My practice shifts daily along with my intention. For example, my intention for the New Year is “I am flourishing.” Each day I hone the focus appropriately. Today’s intention is “I make art expressing satisfaction.” Creating intention becomes a process, where I teach myself over and over how to live with a sense of acceptance, control and possibility. The holiday now means renewing my inspiration to nudge my heart open and call out my self-limiting tendencies with intention. So, yes, I do feel like I’ve made friends with New Year’s Day, but I still like to proceed as I would with any other day, simply appreciating all its glory.
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