Holy crap.  January is nearly over and time is slipping through my fingers faster than ever before.  January is almost done and February is already on the horizon, which is scary.  But, it also means that the dreaded Resolution Season will soon come to a close and no one is happier than me to kick it out the door on its unexercised gluteus maximus.  For half a century now (yes, I am that old and loving it, BTW) I’ve watched many roads paved with good intentions that either never come to completion or the construction plans for the darned thing just never got off the ground.  All around the world, near the end of January or shortly thereafter — diets die, plans don’t pan out and nasty habits continue on their not-so-merry little ways.  Even though time seems to go faster and faster with every passing year, I still look forward to the end of December, to see Old Man Time leave room for the New Year’s Baby.  But that Resolution wench is a wicked mistress I never could serve.

It’s not that I haven’t ever taken a spin down the list/promise/resolution making path.  I have.  For example, like a lot of people, I have always had the ever-present ten pounds that haunt me and I routinely resolve to abolish them.  Then, before I go screeching cross-trainers first into my local fitness center, I realize that I love toast and butter far more than I do low-slung skinny jeans, mini skirts, hotpants (or whatever past decade’s torturous fashion decrees dictated) and those demon pounds stop howling.  [It’s amazing how a few well crafted carbohydrates can muffle my inner Atkins/Zone bony trophy wife, in order to let the Sophia-Loren-in-me breathe.]

Resolutions are hard to keep.  The same goes for learning languages, managing time/debt/stress or getting a degree… the desire may be there and the yearly sincere declarations get made, but (as I have discovered time and time again): Life sometimes gets in the way of living.  Pie in the sky is hard to order, when your feet are on the ground and pounding pavement just to get by.

So, instead of ever making any more New Year’s Resolutions, I decided a while back that a handful of promises to self might be a little bit healthier.  By having a reasonable and logical emotional To Do List – maybe, just maybe, I could have substantial, positive “additive” to my life.  Besides, resolutions always seem to involve subtracting, division and fractional elements of some sort, and… well, I’ve never liked math.

To that end, here are a few of those promises to self:

• Do not look back on things (or people) that hurt.
• Do not cheat myself out great opportunities.
• Do not let the wants of others get in the way of my needs [or the needs of my loved ones].
• Do not let the needs of others get lost in the search of my wants.  Help first.
• Do not forget that hunger, anger, loneliness and fatigue can affect judgment. Fix it.

I’m finding that these promises have actually gone a long way in the effort to make more than just a happy few weeks of a new year – they are helping to make every day the best it can possibly be and they are turning out to be promises I think I can keep.

And keep that Resolution babe off my case.

“But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.” ~ Robert Frost