My Conundrum

And here we are. It’s the beginning of a New Year and a lot of us are probably questioning if we should bother thinking of a New Year’s Resolution. If I was a betting man, I would predict that practically everyone who makes a resolution, or a number of them, do so with good intentions, but are more than aware that one of two of their promises are brought forward from last year’s unsuccessful attempt(s). They want to better themselves, but actually, if they are truly honest with themselves, it is a futile attempt at being someone they are not.

I, for one, used to be against it, as a notion. I figured that if I wanted to do something, then I would just do it. I did not need to tell myself to do it at the beginning of the year. Plus circumstances can change your chances of success. If I made a resolution to not drink for a year, I may be taken on a stag do and forced to do 14 shots of Jagermeister (this actually happened although I did not have the delusion of making that ridiculous and unreasonable promise). If I made the resolution to read a novel every month, I may become blinded in a freak golfing accident (I actually did make this resolution about 5 years ago but failed to achieve it because of lack of self-discipline. For shame). The reality is that things can get in your way and I figured that you were much less likely to be disappointed at your successive failures to better yourself if you simply avoided making such attempts in the first place.

Last year however I ignored my pessimism and actually made a couple of promises. Please note that what I called pessimism then and still call pessimism now may turn out to be very solid realism. It may hold that we are hard-wired to do what is comfortable and that making such bold statements, like climbing Everest, will only be managed by those few with the ability to defy human nature. That, in essence, is want I want to experiment, but I will come back to that point later. Back to my two New Year Resolutions for 2012: one was to join Karate again (I used to do Martial Arts for about 10 years and wanted to get back into something I was good at) and the other was to record an album. I have written my own songs for a number of years now and have always wanted to get them on to a CD. I reasoned that if I told myself that I would do it, I would be much more likely to, which completely went against my philosophy of the previous years where doing such a thing seemed pointless.

The truth is; I sit here now, a year on, questioning the success of it all. I did join a karate club, paid the initial license fee, bought a gi (the pyjama like suit they wear), passed the first grading, and then quit. I used to be a black belt and knew that I was nowhere near the expected standard so I started again at white belt, only to feel unchallenged. Last year I also managed to record a lot of my songs onto my computer through my web-cam, which in no way counts as recording an album. I did manage at the very end of last year to book my very first gig for January of this year, which is a step forward towards bettering myself, albeit a belated and still somewhat unrelated attempt at achieving my goal.

So in a way I succeeded. But also, in a way, and if I refrain from being in denial, I did not. So should I continue to make targets that I will quite possibly fail at? Or should I revert back to my previous viewpoint that to do such a thing will prove time-consuming, distracting and all the more depressing when one fails to achieve it.

Well this would not much of a blog/book/ramble if I decided to give in to the cynicism that clouds our society, stifles our pub chats and is exponentially expressed by the youth of today*.

I will take on the challenge that the New Year throws at us, by the horns, by the balls, and by anything else that represents a manly acceptance. I will not only be making a New Year’s Resolution. I will be making 12. One to be completed every month, on average. “You’re mad” I hear you cry. “You’re brilliant” I just about hear amongst the applause. Well, that may or may not be true. It is too early to tell. I have only just started. And the truth is: I am already a day late.