A variable (yet ever-present) degree of change over time is God’s (Newton’s?) guarantee to us. Fortunately, we have free will; our daily–hourly–sometimes split-secondly decisions give us the power to nudge that little thing–change–in different directions. So here we all are, nudging away, and year after year (mostly commercially motivated, magazine-cover) proclamations of “A New Year, A New You!” insist that the annual re-set of the calendar promises us a sparkly clean slate with which to dramatically make over our mediocre lives.
Bull Shit.
Because all we can really do is nudge. And I use the word “we” rather ambiguously, because I can really only speak for myself, an addict, and I won’t presume to generalize about the entire human race; after all, certain of us have certainly spurned disproportionate measures of change with whatever nudges we are allotted: Thomas Edison, Rosa Parks, Obama.
What I’m trying to say is that change is gonna happen. I know what I have to do (always! not just on perfect, pure and almost symmetrical 1-1-11): get to meetings, work the Steps, and do service. My program is a triumvirate of the physical, the spiritual, the mental; the unity, the service, the recovery. I’m not making this up, people. It’s what my Sponsor told me the first time we sat down together. It’s written in my Big Book. I just looked it up. (I also looked up the word triumvirate, to make sure I was using it correctly, and according to Wikipedia, it’s “a political regime dominated by three powerful individuals…though the three are usually equal on paper, in reality this is rarely the case.” How appropriate!)
So: New Year’s Resolutions. Redecorate and clean my room. Get to the gym at least three times a week. Make more money. Learn French. Organize everything, including my hard drive and email inbox. Start knitting. Read or watch the news every day. Start investing. Lose at least 10 pounds. Yada yada yada yada ya. How silly these all sound! While some are good ideas, can we agree that suddenly trying to be (what we think would be) perfect all at once on the first of the year (ready, go!) is preposterous?! And probably not everyone creates such long, impossible lists of self-improvements. But I can honestly say that a year ago today, that’s probably what my convictions looked like.
So maybe the New Year is a better opportunity for reflection than for planning ahead, since my life seems to have been taking turns lately that I can honestly say I’ve had nothing to do with. Step One: we admitted we were powerless over food–that our lives had become unmanageable. A year ago today, I was on the painful brink of a break-up in a relationship that just wouldn’t go away, even though one party had moved halfway across the world; I was still wondering what might happen with an ex that had become an ex over a year prior; I was, intensely, “best friends” with someone to whom I felt no real connection; I was bingeing, restricting, and overexercising all the time and drinking a lot; I was making impossible-to-keep and impossible-to-love-myself-otherwise New Year’s Resolutions; I felt distended and miserable, mired in self-loathing and fear, and cocky as hell. And then a lot of things happened. A lot of good things, a few tragic things, a lot of difficult things, a lot of selfishness, a lot of laughter. Nothing all good or all bad. A lot of prismatic things.
And here we are, on 1-1-11…and in a year, God willing, I’m sure I’ll have had an equally if not more transformative 365 days, with or without resolutions.
Wishing all a peaceful New Year.
recoverydiscovery 
Bonne année et bonne santé!
Okay, French lesson over. 😉 Great entry, about the nature of living on single steps, in daily units. Of looking over a year and seeing how recovery has subtly changed your perspective from the hope that “A New Year, A New You!” was an achievable goal. When we seek progress, not perfection, we acknowledge that change is done with nudges which sometimes end up appearing to be large leaps forward (or even sideways!) simply because we weren’t noticing the tiny movements putting things into motion.
I always enjoy reading your blog, and I agree that you have changed your thinking quite a lot since the despair-filled first entries that this HAS TO STOP and that your meaning comes from some place beyond you–in food, in relationships. That every ending is a beginning; that we live lives of choices instead of a predetermined path toward an unrealistic goal we may or may not actually want if we could have it.
So I raise a glass of water to you today, for 2011 sounds like “Lara’s Year of Being Present and Accounted for in her Own Life”. I reached that realization in the third quarter of this year, when I realized that I remembered 2010 better than the 9 years before it. And while I do have things I want to do (contact my sponsors more often, have coffee with my HP in the mornings, read more Geneen Roth books, take a knitting class to see if I can actually make yarncrafts with two needles instead of one) in 2011, I know that I have an opportunity to make progress in each 24-hour period as long as I exist both inside myself and outside of myself.
That’s the lesson I hope my HP helps solidify this year–to change my walls into boundaries. But if it doesn’t happen in 2011, then I’m clearly not ready for it. After all, my recovery happens in my HP’s time . . . and not always concurrent with the countdown and ball drop in Times Square.
great post. I love it. Much better than the usual worldly goals & asperations.