New Years reminds me of baseball’s spring training. In March,
when the players are in Florida and Arizona, everyone is full of
hope. The blackboard has been erased and every team has a fresh
start. Even the teams that have been doormats for years, and
probably will be this year, talk hopefully about the season ahead.
If this happens and if that happens, we’ll have a good year.
New Years reminds me of baseball’s spring training. In March, when the players are in Florida and Arizona, everyone is full of hope. The blackboard has been erased and every team has a fresh start. Even the teams that have been doormats for years, and probably will be this year, talk hopefully about the season ahead. If this happens and if that happens, we’ll have a good year.
And so it is for all of us at the beginning of a new year. With a clean slate, we are determined and hopeful that this year we will get it done: lose 20 pounds, start painting, make that career change we’ve dreamt of.
But like the Chicago Cubs or the Boston Red Sox, sooner or later, we find ourselves saying, wait until next year. Whether we just make excuses (“I’m too busy”) or admit real hurdles (“I’m afraid” or “I don’t have the will power”), often the same goals are waiting there for us next New Year’s Eve.
This is my second try writing a column this week. I wrote what I thought was a funny and clever piece about our ever unfulfilled New Year’s resolutions and how we should deal with this “problem” by striving for mediocrity. Rather than setting ambitious goals and failing to reach them, I jokingly argued that life would be considerably easier if we just quit working at it – accept mediocrity and muddle on. When they read a draft of the article, my family thought I might be serious.
After so many years under the same roof, I wondered how they thought I would endorse muddling on over reaching up. Yes, New Years resolutions are an easy target for a cheap shot. We make them and a few weeks later, many have been abandoned. But our constant striving and persistent hopefulness are two of the things that distinguish our species. A grasshopper or a bear is “better” for reasons that Darwin can explain, but we work to be “better” for reasons beyond simple evolutionary fitness – something only humans can understand and pursue. A grasshopper can’t choose to become more patient or a better listener.
Sure, some years the resolution list is the same as last year’s, but often it isn’t. In this past year, you may have quit smoking, gotten healthier through exercising, become a better parent or spouse, or connected with a family member in a new way. Maybe you sought help for destructive behavior. Maybe you sacrificed a great deal so that a loved one could reach a life’s goal.
These things are monumental tasks, and when completed, they are huge accomplishments. It is why, despite the bad press we give ourselves, we are a bright light in this universe. Some tasks won’t get done on the first try, and some won’t get done at all, but we alone recognize the need to do the work. And even if we don’t succeed, we learn in the doing.
No other beast can contemplate their shortcomings and then strive to erase them. Some people in the spirituality business would say that is the reason we are here. Sounds right to me. It sure is one of them.
Sometime, “next year” will come for the Chicago Cubs or the Boston Red Sox. No matter how long they have to wait, every spring training will be full of hope and promise. Then the season will start, and they will give it the good effort. New Years marks the start of our season. Have a good one.
