I hate the "New Year, New Me" thing. I hate New Year's resolutions. A new year won't make it any easier to change your life, any easier to reinvent yourself. It's going to be hard no matter when you do it. There's no point in making resolutions that you won't follow and then feel guilty about breaking them. Just choose any day of the year, any day when the way you're living has become too much for you to bear, any day when you have the motivation, the urge, the drive to make the change. That's your new start.
So many people are hungover on New Year's Day. Who wants to go to the gym when you were out late the night before? Who wants to clean the house or go for a run or eat a freakin' salad? No one. New Year's resolutions are set up to fail and when they do fail, you can tumble down a whole guilt spiral only amplified by the pressure associated with all of it.
I didn't make any New Year's resolutions and I'm not living my life any differently than I was four days ago. (Well, that's not true. I've caught a cold in the past four days so my life is drastically different. It involves many more blankets and cups of tea.)
Any day can be a new start. Any hour. Any moment. You just need to have that spark, that push.
I don't know what mine was.
The cleanliness of my houses and my spaces has been so tied in with my moves and my life situations. When I was waking up at 5 am to catch a bus into town and working until the 10 o'clock bus back home and walking a mile back to the little room I rented in a house, everything was crap. My room was horrible. Everything I own was crammed into a bedroom where I couldn't even use the closets. It was a sea of boxes that I hadn't opened since the move. I used the desk as my dresser because I had no alternative. It was not my own space and so I had a hard time finding the motivation to care for it when I was so exhausted all the time.
After that, I was again confined to a room, not out of any rules or anything, but just out of my social awkwardness. I moved with only a suitcase and a backpack. I moved in with my boyfriend and his family 1500 miles away. I had never lived with a boyfriend before. I just crammed my mess into tiny spaces, though. The drawers under my bed. A box in the desk. Organization was hard and I was lazy and I still felt no claim to the space.
But now I do. My boyfriend and I moved again. Almost 1000 miles back north. It's just him and I in a three bedroom home. There's a cute, little kitchen with a washer and dryer in the closet; a living room; a dining room; a weird, unnamed sort of downstairs room; a bathroom; and three bedrooms upstairs. It's a huge house. With his stuff and my stuff and all the furniture we've borrowed from family members and found at Goodwill, we have plenty of stuff. But I've never had such ease in caring for a place before.
The papers in my desk are still a mess. I need to find a way to organize that. Our books are on a shelf. Our games in a box. Our pictures and knick knacks proudly displayed. Our clothes are folded or hung. Dishes washed. Laundry done. Carpet vacuumed.
I love this house. I feel ownership over it. I feel pride. I love having guests over. I love showing them the home that my boyfriend and I created. I spend half my day cleaning and half working from home.
My new year started on August 28th when we drove up the hill in our giant Penske truck and brought all our worldly goods into this space. When the ball dropped and the date changed, my life remained the same. I took my opportunity to change my life and myself months ago and I haven't looked back since.
So many people are hungover on New Year's Day. Who wants to go to the gym when you were out late the night before? Who wants to clean the house or go for a run or eat a freakin' salad? No one. New Year's resolutions are set up to fail and when they do fail, you can tumble down a whole guilt spiral only amplified by the pressure associated with all of it.
I didn't make any New Year's resolutions and I'm not living my life any differently than I was four days ago. (Well, that's not true. I've caught a cold in the past four days so my life is drastically different. It involves many more blankets and cups of tea.)
Any day can be a new start. Any hour. Any moment. You just need to have that spark, that push.
I don't know what mine was.
The cleanliness of my houses and my spaces has been so tied in with my moves and my life situations. When I was waking up at 5 am to catch a bus into town and working until the 10 o'clock bus back home and walking a mile back to the little room I rented in a house, everything was crap. My room was horrible. Everything I own was crammed into a bedroom where I couldn't even use the closets. It was a sea of boxes that I hadn't opened since the move. I used the desk as my dresser because I had no alternative. It was not my own space and so I had a hard time finding the motivation to care for it when I was so exhausted all the time.
After that, I was again confined to a room, not out of any rules or anything, but just out of my social awkwardness. I moved with only a suitcase and a backpack. I moved in with my boyfriend and his family 1500 miles away. I had never lived with a boyfriend before. I just crammed my mess into tiny spaces, though. The drawers under my bed. A box in the desk. Organization was hard and I was lazy and I still felt no claim to the space.
But now I do. My boyfriend and I moved again. Almost 1000 miles back north. It's just him and I in a three bedroom home. There's a cute, little kitchen with a washer and dryer in the closet; a living room; a dining room; a weird, unnamed sort of downstairs room; a bathroom; and three bedrooms upstairs. It's a huge house. With his stuff and my stuff and all the furniture we've borrowed from family members and found at Goodwill, we have plenty of stuff. But I've never had such ease in caring for a place before.
The papers in my desk are still a mess. I need to find a way to organize that. Our books are on a shelf. Our games in a box. Our pictures and knick knacks proudly displayed. Our clothes are folded or hung. Dishes washed. Laundry done. Carpet vacuumed.
I love this house. I feel ownership over it. I feel pride. I love having guests over. I love showing them the home that my boyfriend and I created. I spend half my day cleaning and half working from home.
My new year started on August 28th when we drove up the hill in our giant Penske truck and brought all our worldly goods into this space. When the ball dropped and the date changed, my life remained the same. I took my opportunity to change my life and myself months ago and I haven't looked back since.
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