It is the beginning of a new year which means that friends, even my very best friends, who should know by now how much I distaste making resolutions, are sending me emails with titles like this: "Resolutions For a Life Worth Living: Attainable Aspirations Inspired by Great Humans of the Past (including Seneca, Baldwin, Whitman, Le Guin and more...)."
Or this more benign email from my sister: “The Big Three for 2022”. Her list of resolutions at least was short. Only three items of proposed self-improvement, followed by the simple invitation: “Feel free to share your goals for the New Year if you are so inclined.” I have no such inclination.
And then there was this one from a dear friend: “Resolution Time: A Poem My Neighbor Wrote.” This poem, by the way, included a line that I find quite disturbing:
“No matter what happened
Yesterday or last year
Or in your childhood,
Today is a new beginning…"
Now that I am 74, despite decades of therapy, meditation, and being a therapist – and I do aspire to make courageous choices in the present moment – I am nonetheless more and more convinced that what happened in my childhood will continue to influence most days of my life, like it or not.