Making resolutions in the new year has become a tired joke about well-intentioned over-commitment. Last January I opted to consciously remove rather than add new things to my to-do list in hope of narrowing my expectations of what was actually achievable in a lifetime.
It was excruciating to put aside writing projects and break my 400-day Duolingo streak, but it helped me focus on my storytelling workshops, which I’d neglected too long. I am honored to report that focus helped me secure a 4Culture Projects Grant that will allow me to offer a pair of Story Slant workshops in King County this year!
I’ll have more to share about the project in months to come, but you can check out more on the creative, therapeutic process of story slanting over on my website. (I want to send a giant thank you to Lee Hooyboer for helping me get the site together after I lost my last page in a messy clicking accident.)
Laare Vane
I went looking for origins of the New Year’s resolution in Ronald Hutton’s tome, The Stations of the Sun. Though I found no mention of that tradition, I did learn about shifting folk practices during the Twelve Days of Christmas, from mumming and wassail to misrule and gifting habits.
The nearest thing to New Year goal setting was one variation of the Mari Lwyd, or “Horse’s Head” tradition. The Laare Vane (a horse skull or carved wooden head on a pole) led a parlor game of tag on New Year’s Eve along with music and an elaborate stick dance. The fiddler then submitted to a “mock beheading” and would lay in the Laare Vane’s lap to answer questions about the new year. The narrativist in me appreciates the storytelling setting for telling tales about what the new year might hold. It is a great opportunity to explore our imaginative potential, rather than just setting aspirational parameters for our year.
If you’d like to try a resolution removal activity…
Grab a notebook and pen (if you prefer note taking in a specific app, be sure to switch on airplane mode or open the page full screen to prevent distraction). Sit someplace comfortable, but a little unfamiliar, like a different spot at your dinner table or in a chair you’ve turned around to face a new direction.
List all your commitments. Not only activities you do in your day, but the ones that you think you should do. No judgement, just list. Brushing your teeth and walking the dog go on there as well as your monthly book club or board game night. Include your previous resolutions too because practicing piano or sorting out your attic are commitments you made, whether or not you actually got to them as intended.
It will be a long list. Congratulate yourself for all of the things you do. Now, before you launch a new resolution to chide yourself for not reading more history or getting out hiking, let some things go.
Consider what tasks don’t serve you any longer. Did you commit to learning how to knit last year, but now your unfinished projects loom? Did you plan to write more letters, but your stationary pack is still unopened? Strike them off the list or highlight them in a bold color. You might even write them on a new list of released tasks to pin up as a reminder that you have appreciated and released them. Consciously let these things go. You just are no longer going to even think about doing those things.
What happened when I let go of my Duolingo streak? I felt guilty; a little like I’d failed. I got one less dopamine hit and I had a little bit more time. As you thank each task and release it you might unearth a beloved activity from beneath the things you feel you ought to do. Or maybe you can spend a little time each week on the unfamiliar task of doing nothing and letting your mind rest. It’s healthy.
inspiration this month: re-reading
One reason I turned to Ronald Hutton was to understand more of what I missed the first time through Wolf Hall by Hillary Mantel. Her whole trilogy is a brilliantly engaging exploration of the reign of Henry VIII and the indomitable Thomas Cromwell’s role in changing that world. This time I’m reading the novel for the Bowie Book Club Podcast. We’re recording our episode later this week and revealing the rest of the books on our 2026 schedule. Come read along!
Last month for the podcast I re-read Ursula LeGuin’s sci-fi classic The Left Hand of Darkness. Gender, politics, prejudice and a great escape narrative! It was one of my top five books of the year. The other titles on our top ten are listed on the Bowie Book Club bookshop.
My third big re-read began when I joined a a book group for Proust’s A Remembrance of Things Past. It is an epic and luxurious commitment to make with fellow readers. We will be at it for a while. I am 20 years older than when I first started reading Proust’s giant novel and nostalgia for a mother’s affection or the distracting jealousy of a new romance feel very different this time through. It’s a little like re-tasting a favorite childhood cookie and discovering new flavors now that I’ve learned a bit more about baking.
Thanks and see you next month.