Since that first page in my 2010 journal really does say “Pesky Resolutions for 2010,” I might as well report on them with a similar disdain, right?
My relationship with lists is deep and thorough – I was just tempted draw up a pro/con list about list-writing – so every new year brings an opportunity to fully revel in list-iness. However, I might find myself, at the end of December, shaking my fist at a set of goals that could intimidate a superhero and choosing instead to write one mocking resolution.* This year I have a significant list, but tried to show restraint in ambition.
For example, instead of writing down that I want to learn how to love poetry in 2010, I wrote, “Learn more about poetry – acquire an appreciation.” What beautiful caution! What sensibility, allowing for the possibility that I’m incapable of love, or that poetry is mind-numbingly dull – since you can appreciate something without actually enjoying it. Brilliant! I have hedged my bets in such a way that even if I don’t love poetry one iota more at the end of 2010, I can still check off that resolution.
Someone introduced me to the Writer’s Almanac, which I started reading daily – resolutely taking my poetry multi-vitamin every morning, proud of myself for being so diligent in the study of something that may or may not be pleasant.
But this poetry is unexpected. It’s not just pleasant – it’s intoxicating! Many mornings I’m brought to tears. I try to find poetry everywhere now – seeking out those intentionally stripped-down phrases that express more truth than words should be able to contain. (This hasn’t limited my fondness for rambling, but I’m learning the value of paring down.)
Some sweet librarians were handing out poems on the Downtown Mall this afternoon, and I’m so glad they were. This is the poem I received.
*”Keep it real.” Best mock resolution ever.