Is it really 2011?

According to the calendar in my kitchen, a new year starts in two days. Like many Americans, I'm tempted to create a New Year's Resolutions list and fill it with at least a dozen lofty ambitions to make the new year creative and productive.

Not this year.

That sheet of paper makes me feel guilty, overworked and a slave to a grandiose list. Granted, they're promises that are good for me -- lose weight, keep a cleaner desk, exercise more and generally improve my life.

But because I lose the list by Valentine's Day, have gained weight by April Fool's Day, piled a mountain of papers on my desk by July 4, hidden my tennis shoes under a mound of dirty clothes by Halloween and gained even more weight by Thanksgiving, I realized my list serves no useful purpose.

So instead of resolutions, I decided to spend my energy in a different direction -- reflection, not empty promises.

Family. I've got a great family, both at work and personally. There are a few crazies in both places, but that's what makes life so special. Who wants a world where we all fit into that same cookie-cutter mold? The crazies remind us to take a look inside and see if we're the nutty ones, not the other way around.

Electronics. Although I don't understand how they work, nor can I figure out how to save a phone number in my cell phone, electronics are pretty fascinating, especially the Internet. I'd love to learn how to navigate and explore the online world and I'm thrilled so much knowledge is available with the click of a mouse button.

Escape. Although I try and stay productive, there are times I simply want to escape for an hour or two. Reading inane posts on Facebook and simply wandering around the Internet are interesting ways to pretend I have amnesia about the pile of work on my desk.

Reading. I'm not sure who introduced me to books, but whoever did, thank you. All my life, I've surrounded myself with everything from fiction to non-fiction, and now I'm entering the world of electronic reading. The written word has comforted me, kept me company and illuminated my life.

Klutziness. Not just an occasional trip or bumping my elbow against a corner. I'm talking trip-over-my-own-two-feet clumsy, the kind where people quietly move fragile objects away from me. But because I'm clumsy, I appreciate seeing grace in action -- my granddaughter perfecting her ballerina moves, a leaf slowly falling from a tree and a heron taking flight over the lake.

My car. I've driven cars where the brakes failed, wouldn't start on cold mornings and barely passed the state inspection test, but my car represents freedom. That sedan in the driveway allows me to explore back roads with my camera, visit family and friends and have a safe place to sing at the top of my lungs.

Forgiveness. I'm lucky I'm surrounded by wonderfully kind people who forgive my thoughtlessness, listen to my "did I ever tell you" stories over and over again and pretend to have amnesia when I do something really stupid, which is every single day.

Reflection. When I look back instead of forward, I realize I've got a lot to be thankful for and that, not a list of lofty resolutions I'll never fulfill, is what fuels my optimism for the coming year.

Here's hoping your 2011 is a year of appreciation for the mundane minutes, not just the memorable ones.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.