No resolutions, but I’ve defined goals for 2021

Making New Year’s Resolutions has never been a habit of mine. Nevertheless, I do have goals.

I schedule time to re-visit my values, asking myself whether the actions I’m taking in my life align with what matters to me the most. The most natural time for me to do this is at the beginning of the secular (January) and the Jewish (Nisan) year.

Here’s a redacted version* of some things I will doon purpose, and with intent—in 2021.2021 goals in a table, listing intellectual, financial, physical, relationship, and career objectives

Since I’m not a finance blogger, I’ll keep the details of my personal economic goals to myself redacted with green lines. The pink strikethrough covers a commitment to enhancing a particular relationship.

Really, what I’m trying to share here is an approach that I have found helpful for working toward what some might call my Life Plan. I aim to write down specific, achievable, list-tickable items that I know are within reach, but which will move me, inexorably, toward loftier ambitions.

I consider what I want from my life in a few key areas:

  • intellectual,
  • financial,
  • health,
  • personal relationships,
  • and career/vocation.

The bigger goals might be described as:

  • I will continue to exercise my mind until I’ve lost it.
  • I want financial security for myself and my family.
  • I will nurture my physical body.
  • Human relationships are fundamental to my enjoyment of life.
  • Though I’ve opted to stay at home, raising my children, I still have a role in the wider world which I’m expressing via this blog.

Resources abound with other, far more specific approaches to success. I’ve read books that will tell you how many “core values” you can/should have and how to cultivate them. I’ve seen Warren Buffet’s advice on narrowing your focus to just a couple of aims in an article about being a better leader.

I’m not a guru, and I can’t change your life. Only you can do that! Thanksgiving give thanks - 1

I am, however, a person who finds something to be grateful for every day. I believe that paying attention to what you want—and why—is key to happiness.

I could be happier; I could be more successful. I’m satisfied with who, what, and where I am, though, so I’m sharing my simple process in hopes of spreading some empowerment toward self-acceptance.

happy faceFor me, a short list of targets I know I can meet provides fuel for my willpower engine. If you feel you’ve “failed” at New Year’s Resolutions in the past, consider trying this method for yourself. Little victories may also prove to be your catalyst for bigger wins.

The head of the Jewish year also happens to align with the start of the academic calendar and all of its associated beginnings. As an inveterate nerd, I doubt that even the graduation of my children from school will break me of the habit of seeing autumn as the time to begin new projects.

* …just in case anyone is wondering just how much detail I, in particular, choose to include in this kind of longish term thinking. Because, sometimes, it is easier to try something new with a blueprint from a person who went there before you did.

Passage from Leave the World Behind epitomizes 2020’s key lesson

Like any sensible reader for whom Christmas triggers profound grief over the death of a holiday-adoring loved one, I began Christmas morning 2020 by finishing up a dystopian novel, Rumaan Alam’s Leave the World Behind.

You can find a proper review from NPR or the New York Times, but I agree with the positive opinions that Alam crafted an unusual and interestingly written work of fiction. It isn’t an easy book to read due to the subject matter, but it wasn’t off-putting to me for the usual gruesome reasons I dislike most horror. Gird yourself for a downward spiral of darkness if you dive in, but Leave the World Behind is well worth reading.

Leave the World Behind book coverWhat follows is a quotation from near the end of the novel, but I don’t believe reading it out of context constitutes a spoiler for the plot. I’m putting it “below the fold” in case any reader feels differently and prefers to stop here.

Continue reading

Holiday wishes for readers of every stripe: why I may wish you Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and Good Yule, too

Looking forward to a holiday season that promises merriment and stresses, joys and missed opportunities, I send my sincere wishes for a healthy, happy, well-balanced Celebration of Your Choice to every reader.

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Beginnings of a feast to welcome the New Year

Contrary to what some pundits believe, I am not partaking in a “War on Christmas.” I just happen not to be one of the Americans who makes a Christmas holiday in her home. I am delighted by the fact that so many do, however, and honored to be invited to participate in Christmas and alternate holiday parties held by friends, family, and my community.

I cherish every card I receive wishing me the best, whether the sender is joyfully recounting the birth of Jesus or illuminating the darkness in remembrance of a miracle of light. Some of the greetings are silly cartoons and puns, and I like those laughs, too.

I’m especially fond of the irreverent ones because they tickle my fancy, though I don’t think most who know me would accuse me of a lack of reverence in my personal or spiritual conduct.

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Ёлка (yolka)

I even appreciate the commercial cards from my dentist or the auto repair shop, especially when an employee took the time to sign his name; it may be advertising, but it is also a human expression in an age when some would call corporations “citizens.” Ahem. It’s an effort to spread joy. I’m all in favor of that.

Counting your blessings, sharing glad tidings, and lighting up the darkness are Really Wonderful Things.

I begrudge no one her wish to draw her family close and celebrate the season as she sees fit; I wish for everyone the comfort of being embraced by his family and friends during these darkest days of the year.

It is human nature to need a bright and warm “coming together” in the heart of winter. I hope every reader finds that, whether the bosom that welcomes you is secular or holy, crowded or solitary.

May each of us find the love we need to keep our spirits lifted, now and going forward.

And I pray for extra doses of relaxation to find their way to all of us who join in multitudinous cultural festivals due to the rich complexity of our intermingled lives. Let all the in-laws and outlaws* revel together in harmony this season.

Shalom! Peace be with you and yours. Happy holidays. Blessed be.

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Homemade hanukkiahחַנֻכִּיָּה, only slightly flammable. Adult supervision required!

 *Outlaws may be a distant possibility unless you celebrate a real, old-fashioned Saturnalia. Enjoy a law-abiding holiday season… unless you are living in place that suppresses your religious freedom. Secret personal observances in defiance of culture police? Yes. Drunk driving? No!

The “trivial” work of motherhood

I must write about trivial matters because my job is trivial. I am, after all, “just a mom.”

Of course, there’s more to trivia than the casual reader might suppose.

When the idea for this post came to me, I thought my point was a common one. That is, that without the mundane yet necessary chores done by the unsung, ordinary worker, the hungry and unclothed genius could never accomplish great things.

I was failing to grasp my own point.

Trivial has come to mean “not important.” Merriam-Webster’s definition for kids states just that: “of little worth or importance.”

A deeper reading of trivial‘s etymology—it comes from the Latin “crossroads”— underscores exactly what I sought to express.

excerpted from Merriam-Webster

Mothers are “trivial” because they are the only tangible link between every human being and all others. I am literally the crossroads between my husband’s family and that of my birth. My body made possible a new line of human succession, like that of every biological mother before me.

And, this is mere biology. Any mammal could do it. It hardly bears mentioning, let alone an acclamation.

Except…

We are the nodes in humanity’s network of biological interrelationships. We tie the web together.

Everyone bears a mother’s mark at the umbilicus, the scar where the physical tether was broken after birth. The rending of this vital connection must be followed by emotional bonding with some dedicated caregiver*, or an infant fails to thrive.

Everybody has a mother.

How trivial she must be!

*Though, at this moment, I am particularly in awe of the notion of birth mothers knitting the entire human race together, let no one read this post as a denigration of foster- and adoptive mothers and other parents-by-choice. Parenting is a monumental task; everyone who undertakes it with dedication earns an equal measure of my respect.

Pain makes me less approachable; pain makes you like me less

When I’m in pain, I am certain that I’m less receptive to the good in the world around me.

A recent study showed that it is possible to diagnose depression remotely by analyzing the photos people post to social media. Depressed people view the world so differently, their acts of self-expression change.

Along similar lines, I’ve noticed that I view people around me in a different light when my chronic pain flares. I’ve caught myself cynically judging the sincerity of a smile on a woman’s face, or angry at a pedestrian for his freedom to walk presumably without pain.

This isn’t my natural personality. I have a sincere love for—and trust in the goodness of—humanity that my darling husband finds charmingly(?) naive.Untitled

I like to joke that I’m a functional misanthrope, but that’s got more to do with my introversion and some social anxiety than any real disdain for humanity. I am overjoyed by the heights of human achievement. I believe that we, as a species, will persevere and do wonderful things.

That’s my perspective. That’s who I really am.

Pain, however, distorts my every impression.

And, I’m less likeable when I’m in pain. Continue reading