I thought 30 would be the year for change.
I was wrong.
30 years. 3 decades. An undeniable moment and achievement. Ripe for evaluation and change.
So I was also right.
I remember making a Pinterest board. Secret, of course. Just for me. Full of healthy habits and resolutions. Health. Fitness. Reading. Writing.
Of course, what I got instead was a heap of good intentions that lasted three months, physical and mental health issues mixed with occupational turmoil, and a cleaver to the heart over the summer when I received the news that we had lost my uncle in a tragic accident.
He was young and in the prime of his life.
A good man. A great man. One of the finest I have had the privileges of knowing.
They say only the good die young.
I love and appreciate that sentiment, even if it’s not always true. The good die old. The good die talented. The good die planned. The good die unexpectedly and expectedly.
Because those things are just adjectives. And adjectives are subjective to experience. To perspective. To insight.
What are a handful of resolutions in the face of loss? What are the expectations for change, for growth, when we pair it with the staggering concept of life and death?
It becomes entropy.
Stars that glitter brightly on the horizon, burning with the mysterious unknown as they fall to earth. Shards of pain that imbed themselves in our heart too deep to dig out. It is difficult to keep it in perspective when facing loss. But we turn to those around us. Family. Friends. Those that share both pain and pleasure. Defeat and triumph.
Our fellow man. Our connections. How we interact with others.
So say what you will about milestones and New Year’s resolutions and goals in general. We need to temper those goals with a lens of mindfulness. Of perception. Of being present.
The people and the lives around us are fleeting. That fact does not detract from the business of life, the hustle and grind, the things that get in the way. No, indeed, those details make it richer, enhance it at times. It reminds us that we’re human.
Would that we could all be present and mindful all the time. To see the big picture. To live in the moment.
But it doesn’t seem to work like that.
We’re only human.
I guess that’s okay, too.
So take a moment this coming year to be present. To be mindful. To be aware. Spend some extra time with your children, or your pet. Tell your significant other you love them. Reconnect with your siblings, your friends. Call your parents. Make peace with those relationships that have gone awry. Re-make your list of personal resolutions because, well… three months of meeting those goals is better than nothing.
Live. Love. Live.
But live well, and with purpose.