Do you make New Year’s Resolutions? Why don’t you make half-year resolutions, or any-time-of-the-year resolutions? I’d say if you’re going to make a commitment to yourself worth keeping, you don’t need to wait until the beginning of the year to make it — you’re just setting yourself up to fail.
One half-hearted New Year’s “wish” I thought about for 2009 was to read more — boy, did I read more. For the first three quarters of the year, I had a lot more time on my hands, and I started reading much more than I had before. A benefit of that was I continued reading in my spare time, after things got busy again. It’s been great.
I can’t think of any other resolution or 2010 commitment to make other than to get better at what I’m already doing (something that should be always desired), and if something comes up that I want to put my mind to –whether it’s February 18 or July 12 — I’ll start it then.
I was reading through Obama’s Nobel acceptance speech.
War, in one form or another, appeared with the first man. At the dawn of history, its morality was not questioned; it was simply a fact, like drought or disease – the manner in which tribes and then civilizations sought power and settled their differences.
Do you know someone who can acknowledge something that seems immutable but wants to change it?
Is it possible?
A non-violent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies. Negotiations cannot convince al Qaeda’s leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force is sometimes necessary is not a call to cynicism – it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.
I’m almost halfway between 21, “city girls who lived up the stairs” and 35, “blue-blooded girls of independent means” in Ervin Drake’s It was a Very Good Year, a song made famous by Frank Sinatra. Instead of my life as a vintage wine, though, I’d say it’s more like a ripe 40 oz. of Colt 45 — for now.
In 44 days I’ll have made it longer than Kurt Cobain. I’ve already beaten Tupac Shakur by 641 days. I still prefer beer over wine and do a poor job at feigning adult sophistication for anything better than Baby Duck. I’m sure I’ll get there.
Am I apprehensive about segueing gracefully into the autumn of my twenties? No. Judging by some guys I’ve met in their mid-thirties, I’ve got plenty of time to mature.
When people feel uncomfortable about their age, I think they feel uncomfortable with where they’re at in life. Sure, Alexander the Great conquered something like a quarter of the civilized world before 20 — we can’t all be that great, but we can try, set goals and aim the best we can at the modern-day equivalent of what we think is greatness. Those who have made a living off inspiring others claim it’s doable, but achieving a fraction of what your mind can imagine one step at a time maybe will lead you to greatness. Bitterness is the product of being denied something you think is owed to you. Think of the goal and the end result as something you must earn and you won’t have that problem. And even if you don’t ultimately succeed, it’ll still be a lot more rewarding — and a lot more fun — than if you had never tried.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got my slippers and a comfortable-looking chair waiting for me to ease myself into…we’ll re-visit the philosophy of aging when I’m 32.
Hi, I'm Michael (of Vancouver, B.C.). Welcome to my blog. Read more