You say you want a resolution, well you know, we all want to change our waistlines

This year, 2008, is reaching it's resolution; it's conclusion, such that it is. It's time to review, in high-def resolution, in great detail, how this year has gone, and resolve to make changes that will make the coming year better if I act with firm resolve.

My husband doesn't believe in making New Year's resolutions. My mom doesn't either. A lot of people don't. My husband thinks making this list at the end of one year, before another one starts is arbitrary. Much like buying Christmas presents just because it's Christmas rather than because you saw something right then, right now that you'd like to give to a particular somebody. On this point I agree. That's why I tend to make resolutions on a daily or weekly basis rather than once a year. And they aren't always the same ones, either. Except for that pesky lose weight, exercise more one.

But I'm a navel gazer. I can get mired in thinking about stuff. I think about why things are the way the are. How I would like to change certain things in my approach to life or my behavior. So it's easy for me to make a list of things I resolve to change. And I think that it's important to be introspective. But it's not enough; or is it that it's too much? At some point I need the Dr. Phil moment. Move, do it, just DO it. Because my brain so often gets in the way. I have so many fears, many directly a consequence of my self-consciousness, that wall me in. (I know this because I think about my SELF a lot.)

Today, the N and I were at the ice skating rink. I don't ice skate. Not without being very close to the wall. I fear falling, as I should. A hit in the head is the last thing I need. My first instinct was to tell N to have fun skating while I watched and read my book. That's what I've done in the past. But the N really wanted me to skate too. So I decided that I would join him on the ice (having kids helps people like me let go of some of that self-consciousness because we have to put them above ourselves). Once out there I was reminded just how slippery it is on ice when you are standing on a set of narrow blades. Moving makes it worse! Every move I made was against my instinct to say "This isn't for me. I'm going to sit down." Back where it's safe. But I stayed out there. Where it's slippery. Where falling would really hurt. And I let go of the wall a few times to pass the kids who were just learning to ice skate and who next week will fly right around me because they learned to let go of the fear and slide, skimming along the ice.

So my resolution this year is more of the same. Let go of the wall sometimes. It'll still be there when you need it.