No New Year’s resolutions for me.
I’ve failed at them too many times. Nope, this year I’m going to walk into 2024 and just see what happens.
That’s what I said at midnight. By 12:30 a.m., I had a list of resolutions. Looking at them, I realized they were the very same ones I write down every year. It doesn’t mean one thing who I’m with when writing those resolutions. Somehow they must be ground into my DNA because there’s no escaping them. Do I dare share with you what I’ve written? This blog seems safe enough and people don’t generally comment so maybe I can just pretend no one is here and just write away.
The first resolution: I’ve had this since I was little. I’m going to dust. Well, let’s just say it’s a nice idea but I never have enough time. When I was a child I was either playing, pretending, dancing or drawing to have time to do that simple chore. It was my thought—if I waste time on it today, I’ll still have to do it tomorrow so maybe I’ll just leave it for awhile. Then, when I had children of my own, it was more fun playing with them than dusting.
The second resolution: I promise not to dance or work on art when I’m supposed to be praying. I promised to say Liturgy of the Hours (LOH), and it is an easy one to do when I’m at St. Ben’s. At home, I look at the LOH for the day and my mind has me somewhere else lots of times. Too many words and not enough color. While I really try to stick to the psalms, I find I’ve got half a dozen sketches with each psalm. Did I really pray that psalm? I don’t know. There have been times I’ve thought about a way to dance one of the psalms and when I’m not in a pew, up I go.
The third resolution: Listen better. It’s not so much that I don’t listen. Lots of times I don’t clarify and don’t ask. Need to ask more what people really mean.
Those are a few of my resolutions. That third one is a constant, just the people change. I tell you true. None of them has ever been 100%.
I’ve been toying with a new idea. I think I’m old enough to get a tattoo. Check back next year to see if I had the guts to do it.
P.S. I got up this morning and made it through prayer without a pencil, and I dusted the piano!
Pat Pickett, OblSB