The problem is that we’re creatures of habit. It’s a lot easier for us to get into a habit than to get out of it. How else do you explain Tyra Banks still having a TV show, or sales of pornographic material being through the roof in a “down” economy. So, every January 1st - New Years Day - we resolve to stop doing something we really enjoy doing. Our collective hearts are in the right place, centered securely in our mid-section, protected by a bunch of ribs.
But, did you know that New Year’s Day is celebrated on different dates by different cultures? The Chinese New Year, for example, is in February. And there’s a tribe in Borneo that celebrates the New Year on December 28th - just to get a jump on the rest of us. New Year’s Creep, I call it.
My point is that your odds of succeeding in quitting whatever it is you’re trying to quit aren’t increased one sliver of a percentage point because you choose January 1st to stop. You can stop on March 18th, or October 29th, or August 3rd. It really doesn’t matter. You can stop anytime you want. Or, you can’t. Either way, the day you pick to start trying is pretty insignificant.
So, what good is New Year’s Day then, you may be asking yourself. Simple. There are a lot of football games on, and most people don’t have to work that day.
More importantly, it’s a date which we use to demarcate our lives. You probably don’t remember the exact day you got your first bicycle, or had your first taco, or got served with your first restraining order. But, you probably remember the year. (In my case, it’s 1964, 1973, and - never mind.)
If you can see your life as a book, then each year is a page of that book. And every year, you turn a page. Until you get to the end. At which point you either start over at page one and read it again, or you loan the book to a friend, or you sell it on eBay.
But, we can’t do that with our lives. Once the book is finished, it’s finished. No reset button, no “do-overs”, no stuffing the toothpaste back into the tube. It’s done, finito.
So, that’s what a new year means to me. It’s the turning of a page. Of a book with an indeterminate number of pages. And, it’s one book in which you can’t cheat by reading the last page first. The page you just read is gone, committed to memory - if only for a time. The page you are about to read is a mystery. It is uncharted territory, a canvas on which we paint our hopes and dreams. Until it too becomes but a memory.
So, here’s hoping your next page is a masterpiece; a manifestation of your most coveted desires, your strongest yearnings, your most sought-after dreams. Here’s hoping your next page is better than your last.
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