20 - The Slinky Resolution
New year’s resolutions…
Get more serious about school
Leave bad relationships in the past
Get more organized
Be more outgoing
Get serious about working out
New year, new me
Things are going to be different this year!
There seems to be two sides to this coin, just like most things. You are either really for them, or adamantly against them. I’m in the middle, and that shouldn’t be surprising.
The hard thing about resolutions is that I am focusing on the bad. The things that didn’t go my way. The things I gave up on. The things that are wrong with me that I need to fix.
In a perfect world, I would wake up on January 1 and it really would be a new year. Like a fresh piece of paper, or a newly created file, it would be empty and full of possibilities. Whatever I dreamed could be written and then accomplished. And honestly, it still can in a way. There’s just one little problem. The paper isn’t fresh and the file isn’t new. I have to figure out how to write my dreams onto/into a paper that is already full. I have to find a way to fit the new words in between the ones that are already written. And that is where it gets hard.
I can decide I want to work out every day, but I have to find the time. If I decide to get up earlier, I have to erase the timeslot designated for sleep. If I want to be more organized, I have to find time to organize what I already have. Keep? Throw out? Where is the best place to keep it?
In the military, every time we moved we were given a fresh start. A new home, a new town, new friends. Like the magical “New Year,” I was given the opportunity to do things different this time. Set things up in a different way. I could reinvent myself into the person I wanted to present to those around me. They didn’t know the old me. I could be better.
But the problem with the fresh start is that I brought all of my emotional baggage with me. A good analogy would be the accumulation of physical baggage. Perhaps the new kitchen was smaller and wouldn’t hold everything. I didn’t want to get rid of those things so I would box them up and store them for later. Perhaps my new closet wouldn’t hold the clothes that are too small. The ones I'm holding on to until I lose 10 (or 20) pounds. Those would be stored. Perhaps my children had outgrown toys that they weren’t ready to donate. Most likely, I wasn’t ready to lose my babies. I stored the toys ‘just in case’ they would be missed.
The interesting thing about that scenario is that my house appeared less cluttered. But those things weren’t gone. They were sitting in storage, taking up space in my garage. When we thought we were moving, they were loaded into PODS. When we decided to stay, they were unloaded back into the garage. When I got a nicer car that I wanted to protect from the crazy Colorado weather, those boxes were rearranged so I could actually park in my garage.
That’s my life. I appear uncluttered and organized, but I have boxes and messes just around the corner.
In 2019, when we did think we were moving, I got rid of a lot of the chaos. You get to an age where you think, “Yes, I loved this at one time. But do I need it now? Could someone else love it?” This wasn’t a gradual process. This was a quick, “Holy shit! Do we really want to drag all of this stuff to another state?” It was overwhelming and hard. I was happy with the outcome, but dreaded and despised the process. If there wasn’t a deadline looming (putting the house on the market), I would have given up.
That’s how I look at resolutions. They are good to do and good for me, but when it gets hard (as it will, otherwise I wouldn’t be trying to change) I give up. Because there is no deadline with life-altering consequences.
The best way to make change is a little bit at a time. I’m not naturally fond of this because it isn’t flashy or exciting. I want BIG and BOLD! I want to see my progress and show it to others. I want people to notice. I want to notice. Me! Because if I don’t notice, what is the point? But big and bold and flashy doesn’t last.
The trick, for me, is to look at the whole picture. I’m a ‘big picture’ person. When I have to navigate the small stuff, I get lost. It’s like looking at a picture of a mountain, as opposed to being on the mountain, in the trees. When I’m in the trees, it’s confusing. Do I go up, down, left or right? What is the best route?
When I stand back, I can see the entirety of my goal: get to the top. I can see that in order to go up, I need to go down this hill. The hill won’t lead me to the bottom of the mountain, it helps me to go around this massive wall of rock. Going down isn’t giving up. Going down isn’t bad. It’s necessary to get to where I want to go.
If I’m stuck in the trees, I don’t see anything. I can’t see the top of the mountain. I don’t realize that by going down, I will ultimately be able to go up. I just stare at the rock wall and try to figure out how I am going to get up. I cry. I hit the wall. Eventually, I may just sit down and give up.
We all have mountains we want to climb or get past. A trauma to overcome, a difficulty to conquer, a goal to achieve. The key is to take small steps, all while keeping an eye on the big picture.
Oh, and by the way, don’t look at anyone else. For the love of God, do not look at what anyone else is doing!
It’s natural to compare. As a human, I view life linearly and want to place things on a scale in order to make sense of them. He is climbing faster than me. She is enjoying her climb. Everyone else is making progress while I seem to be stuck.
I cannot compare myself to others, and others should not compare themselves to me.
Life is not linear. It’s up. It’s down. AND it’s all around. It has three dimensions. It’s X, Y and Z. Also, it’s not a line. It’s circular.
My life, as I learn lessons, is not from point A to B to C. It is like a spring. I am moving forward, but in a circular motion. When I get to a stopping point, I may be ahead or behind. If I stop and take a snapshot, it looks like I travelled a straight line from point A to point B. But the path to get there is actually winding.
Do you know what a slinky is? It starts at the top of the stairs. I tip it over and it quickly and crazily walks down each step. Now, imagine that my life started at the end of the spring, and slowly travels through the metal. I am a little dot moving along the coil, as the coil is descending the stairs.
At any given moment, my dot is in a different spot. Time marches on, and my dot moves as well. In addition to that, the slinky is moving. In order for me to move forward in space, I must go all around the circumference of the coil. At some points in my life, the entire process moves me a large amount. At other times, that circumferential path only moves me the slightest bit forward.
If I think about the slinky analogy, I can take it one step farther. Every time the slinky gets to a step, it momentarily stops before taking off. And unlike a bouncing line, the first piece of metal to hit the step is the last piece to leave the step. Holy shit! Isn’t that the way life is? It isn’t like a line, or even a curved line. It isn’t a ball that rolls to the next stop, or even one that bounces to the next stop. It is a crazy, winding, wild ride that is constantly moving. Sometimes stopping, ever so slightly, before taking off again in another direction.
Instead of the toy that glides down the stairs, I tend to think of my life like this slinky: Chinese man’s slinky spring tricks. After I have watched it a couple of times, and get past the fact that this guy is so talented, I laugh. That is my life! There is no short, predictable path. I’m not just riding on a slide going down 6 steps. I am a dot on the slinky, as the toy is being slung from here to there. Up, down, and allllllll around.
Another way to think about it is my place in time and space.
In 2019, on December 26 at 1pm, I was sitting in my living room. The next year, at the same time on the same day (December 26, 2020 at 1pm), I sat in the same spot.
But it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the same. I experienced an entire year’s worth of life: trials, triumphs, joyful moments and difficult days.
The earth was basically in the same spot. And physically, so was I. But not mentally. I could have been in the same spot as the previous year. If I had refused to learn from and grow through those good and bad times. I could have been stagnate. I could have been virtually the same person.
But, if I allowed those difficulties and delightful days to shape and mold me into a better version of me, then I would have achieved something great.
Sometimes a year brings about a small movement in the right direction. It seems insignificant. However, when I look back to where I was before, the change is seen. If you are moving, you can see progress. Even if it is tiny, it can be observed.
Then, there are monumental years where great growth can be noticed, every step of the way. I know I’m making great strides. The movement is obvious and exciting. It can also be terrifying and painful.
The ‘step back’ and ‘observance’ of the year shows great change with no end in sight. That’s the funny thing about calendar years. We like to think December signifies the end, and January is the beginning. Out with the old, in with the new! But it’s not. It’s a gradual, continual step by step, year by year process.
So just like life isn’t linear, the years aren’t linear either. December isn’t necessarily the end of the bad or the good. January isn’t necessarily the beginning of a new me. This may seem sad or depressing. It’s not! If December isn’t the death of old things, and January isn’t the beginning of the new, that means that it can happen at any time!
I don’t have to wait until January to start fresh. Or Monday. Or the first day of a new job. Or graduation, or marriage, or childbirth, or when things settle down. You don’t even have to wait for (and hear me when I say this) a new day!
Think about it. I don’t even need to wait until tomorrow to brush off the stink of this year or even this day. I can start right now. I don’t have to wait until dinner, or a specific hour, or sunset. I can start right now. Look at the clock. What time is it? Whatever time it is, it is the time to start fresh.
Just like when the slinky hits the step and momentarily stops before moving forward, I too can STOP. I can choose at THIS MOMENT to regroup and then push off toward my goals, my passions.
STOP
REGROUP
REFOCUS
GO!
The funny thing is, this is very necessary: the refocus and adjustment. I like to pretend that I won’t have to do it. That my “push off” will be enough to carry me through to the end. But it’s ok that I need to stop and reevaluate. Check my progress. There’s nothing wrong with that.
It’s ok if I decide to check yearly on myself. If January is when I remember to do it, good for me! See where I am. It’s also ok if I need to do it more frequently. Maybe I need to check on February 12th. Or March 20th. Or August 5th. Or some random Tuesday. Whenever I need it.
As long as I’m checking.
Maybe my life is more like a regular slinky than I thought. Yes, the ride is wild. And sometimes it’s crazy. But as long as I take regular intervals to stop and regroup, before wildly pushing off again, I’ll be ok.