I’m a sucker for the New Year.
When the calendar flips, I forget about all my failed resolutions and once-new, briefly-held habits.
What if I…tried again?
January 1 was like any other wintry day in the Denver area, but that intangible spirit of opportunity felt omnipresent.
I went for a stroll to a bookstore in Denver’s Cap Hill neighborhood and eavesdropped on a pair of friends browsing the stacks.
“We committed to reading more this year!” said the one, kneeling to pick through books on a bottom shelf.
“But we also just went to yoga,” said the other.
The kneeling friend nodded before standing up. “Fair enough,” she said and they walked out, sans any books.
I followed their lead a few minutes later. And leaving a used bookstore without a book in hand is unusual. But I was inspired!
No more “read 50 books this year” goals, I thought. Quality over quantity.
On the second half of my stroll, my mind flitted from one potential goal to another.
What if I made a photo book for the year?
Was trying to walk or run 2 miles a day as foolish as it sounded?
When would I start that woodworking project?
Was following the Premier League a waste of my time?
What if I wrote a blog post every day?
…And what if I did all of it?
Better yet, what if I did it all, and promised myself not to feel badly when I fail?
That might the most reasonable resolution of all.
Taylor Coe 