New Year's Absolutions

I've been thinking about things in my life I'd like to revise in 2024. Not alone in that, certainly. Virtually every newspaper or magazine you pick up this time of year reminds us of our obligation to take advantage of a fresh start, a new beginning, a clean slate, and all the other clichéd redundancies.

But this year I felt a need to approach things a bit differently. Oh, I've been jotting down notes on my calendar about practical daily tweaks I could initiate. Sort and purge one storage box, drawer, or cabinet. Reach out to multiple people via text, phone, or email. Strive for balance and do something fun! But those are all perpetual pledges, simply recycled and re-prioritized.

This year, spurred on by a comment from a fitness class instructor, I was motivated to commit to paper something more lasting and revolutionary. "Consider," our instructor proposed, "phrasing your intentions in more positive terms that replace the idea of insufficiency with grateful acknowledgement." Her suggested alternative to scrunching the brow in an intense, self-denigrating resolve was a simple three-part statement: "I am enough, I have enough. When I aspire to more, it is from a platform of contentment."

On the drive home from class that day I decided to sit right down and write myself a letter. A compassionate epistle of acceptance and reassurance, written from the perspective of a caring friend (me) to a slightly wounded sister in Christ (myself).

A few days later, I plopped into the cushioned chair that faces my computer, intending to crank out a 500-word letter of encouragement to Suz, my youthful alter ego, who often gets stuck in the mire of past mistakes. Sixty minutes and 1,037 words later, I walked away from the keyboard in tears of joy and relief.

The issues I addressed were very personal. Look forward, not backward. Forgive yourself so that you can forgive others. Look to the True Source of your worth. Thank God for all the incredible people in your life. Stop overanalyzing your blessings.

Perhaps you will write your letter to someone who hurt you or caused you great worry, unburdening yourself of resentment and refreshing your soul. Or perhaps you will choose to spell out all the examples of your "enoughness," things like family support, a safe place to live, a faith that buoys in times of distress, the ability to make others laugh, or opportunities to pursue the productive application of your gifts.

I imagine we will all write very different letters. But for anyone who feels bogged down by the idea of composing yet another list of unrealistic self-improvement goals, I highly recommend this constructive approach. There is much to be gained from a deep-dive exploration of all the ways in which our lives are more than sufficient.