Of Resolutions and Lists, or: How I'm Going to Build Up a Head of Steam in 2015

Let's see, it's halfway through the month of January, so I'm going to guess that about 75% of New Year's resolutions are now lost causes. Well, some of the stats aren't quite that dire; it just seems like it.

I have forgone resolutions. Most years I don't bother. Given my recent grousing that 2014 landed flat in the goals department it occurred to me that I should approach 2015 more proactively. Before going to sleep on New Year's day I made a list of things I wanted to achieve in the year. Exciting things like making the casserole cabinet more functional and getting that research article to an editor for review. Ah, lists.

I am of the opinion a problem with many resolutions is that they err toward the aspirational and not the practical. Dan Diamond and I are of one mind that a part of realizing those first day promises comes down to committing yourself to something concrete, doable, and measurable. "Finding myself" sounds nice except for the part that it lacks a clear sense of what "finding" oneself means and has set a pretty high and abstract bar that you may not know if you ever reach—I know when I have found the center of a Tootsie Pop, not sure when I have found myself.

If you can make a resolution like "eat better" or "be true to myself" work for you, then, well done, sailor. I cannot function like that: I need a list. Lists have the potential for great beauty: a clear description of what needs doing followed by the possibility of the indescribable bliss from scratching out completed items. That sweet arrangement of items tells me whether I accomplish anything or not.

Lists have played an important part in my professional successes and no less a part of what makes me no fun: I always need a plan or I get stuck. Some people's secret to success amounts to setting lofty goals with no plan and going at it pell mell. I don't know how they do it, but they make a monkey out of me. Of course, the lack of a plan will undo others.

There's the image JFK borrows from Frank O'Connor to take on aspirations by throwing your hat over a tall wall leaving you with no choice but to find a way to follow it. I find the whole picture he paints inspiring, and, yet, I see myself standing in front of a stone wall with my hat in my hand, pondering, no plan; I put the hat back on my head and slowly walk away. The wall just stood too tall.

Upside of my need for a clear plan, I do a decent job achieving many of my goals (though, certainly not all); downside, I end up with some pretty small dreams because if I don't know how to plan it, I nip that dream in the bud. Worse still, even some of my small goals languish (I'll mount that TV one day with the bracket I already purchased; just you wait!).

To make lists sites of pride and not a record of defeat means getting going. I think James Clear hits the nail on the head when he argues that productivity follows Newton's laws, productivity begets more productivity (i.e., objects in motion tend to stay in motion). When I approach my 2015 list I have been trying to start out with some smaller items that require less work (e.g., to put finances in order, set up a money market account at a bank with a good rate). The thrill of scratching an item of the list is a hit of a drug I want more of. The small accomplishments help me build that head of steam to want to try and execute the next item.

Here's a an example of two small things I got done just before the holidays that I had wanted to do for awhile, both of which have been incredibly useful in the short time since finishing them. Putting up these measuring cups near the cabinets with the flours and sugars has been super convenient, as has the measuring spoons on the inside of a cabinet door directly above where I keep all my spices (right next to the stove). Looking at them brings a small smile to my face, and it reminds me that I want to do more. I know, measuring tools in the kitchen, hardly the stuff of self reinvention, but that is not the point. The point is a sense of progress that builds the desire for more progress. When I feel a little beaten down, it might just be the small steps to help me feel like I can stand taller, possibly jump, and maybe one day soar.

So 2015 begins with a list. The items include personal and professional goals, some on par with the brilliance of hanging measuring cups, others of the scale it scares me just a little (but I scare easily). I have already made some progress on my list, so I use those check marks as motivation to make some more. It counts as movement in the right direction, and I am glad for it.

Who knows, maybe one day, with the experience and confidence of a few years' completed lists, I might have a grand aspiration and a list to back it up. Until then, I'm concentrating on my casserole cabinet.