One resolution... just one

As 2011 comes to a close and 2012 prepares to roll in, I find myself tapping my pencil against a notepad, hoping to come up with some resolutions for the next 12 months.

Over the years, I've changed my philosophy about making New Year's resolutions. When I was younger, the list was all about improvement –clean out my dresser and organize my closet.

Then I went through a phase where resolutions were all about personal growth – lose weight, be nicer to people and try to not lose my temper while in traffic.

There were a few years where I refused to make resolutions, believing they were limiting and often unattainable although they were made with good intentions.

But not having any resolutions for a new year left me with nothing to shoot for, and drifting through life without any goals felt a bit lazy.

So I began thinking about what resolutions are supposed to accomplish. If I look up the definition of the word "resolution," it means a firm decision to do something.

At the end of December, I'm quite dogmatic about the resolutions I've committed to a piece of paper. Come the end of January, I'm wavering. By the time the ides of March rolls around, I've totally forgotten what I wrote down and am back to my old ways.

They were good intentions at the time they were made, but as my Grandma Marguerite used to say, the road to perdition is paved with good intentions.

As I wrote down resolutions, crossed them off, and tried to think of what I wanted to accomplish this year, I thought about a year where I made only one resolution, and I kept it all year long.

The resolution was to do something fun once a month. That might seem odd, but in a world where we work 12 hours a day and spend the weekends running errands and the washing machine, having fun is a luxury I often put on the back burner.

I remembered the qualifications for accomplishing the resolution. The outing didn't have to be extravagant or expensive, but it had to move me out of my comfort zone.

One month, I had lunch at a Lebanese restaurant in Houston, one I'd read about but never had time to explore. The food was delicious, and I savored every bite that Saturday afternoon.

Another month I visited the antique shops in downtown Rosenberg. I found myself going down memory lane as I saw plates and serving trays from my grandmother's kitchen and lost myself in an old red and white checked copy of Better Homes and Garden's cookbook, similar to the one my mom used when I was growing up.

I went to a theatre production one Sunday night, finding my way through downtown Houston adding to the adventure. Another month I visited a friend, and we had lunch at an out-of-the-way cafe.

One month, the money I would've spent on my resolution went to a charity and another month the money went to a family member so they could have some fun.

Knowing someone was stepping outside their comfort zone fulfilled the resolution for me and, at the same time, made me feel a little less selfish.

So this year, I'm going back in time and making a resolution to do something different once a month. It's not a resolution that's going to change the world, but it's often in the small details where we find the most clarity.

Happy New Year!

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.