Intentions to improve are ripe for setting ourselves on the same path we’ve been taking. It’s like a magnet pulling us back to our old ways. How often do we say we will do something differently (and mean it) only to repeat the action we swore off hours later?
I have big projects and goals planned for 2025, and I wanted to share how I’m approaching the new year differently than I have in the past. This was the year I learned an entirely new way of relating to myself and work, and given it’s “new year, new you” season, I thought I’d pay it forward and beg anyone who will listen not to give in to the hype of simplistic transformation.
Because 2024 was the year I learned traditional resolutions don’t work. It was also the year I made intentional, long-term changes in my life. In the process, I realized I didn’t need to “become” anything but rather find the courage to be myself.
I’ve always set resolutions. I love a goal. I love making improvements. I love knowing whether I failed or succeeded in something by looking at numbers and data. But intentions to improve are ripe for setting ourselves on the same path we’ve been taking. It’s like a magnet pulling us back to our old ways. How often do we say we will do something differently (and mean it) only to repeat the action we swore off hours later?
Sick of feeling down on myself and sabotaging my efforts, I became obsessed with why I kept following the same paths repeatedly. Why, for example, was ruminating so unpleasant yet difficult to quit? Why couldn’t I stick to my simple to-do list? Why was saving money so difficult? Why was I eating when I felt overwhelmed? We’re not wired to negate short-term pleasure over long-term gain. It’s a prefrontal lobe phenomenon that requires (for those not psychopathic) a complete hijacking of our primitive instincts. Instincts hardwired to keep us alive, fed, and reproducing. I thought I was tough enough to take on evolution.
When you realize you’re David, not Goliath, you look for different ways to slay a beast. In my search, I found the closest thing to a silver bullet regarding the unending loop of broken promises: self-compassion. It sounds soft but can shift entire internal landscapes in a moment.