I always feel a need to apologize after a long break between posts. This writing practice has mostly been for myself, but I am reminded that these are in fact public writings when I see the little view counts and receive the occasional blog-related message from old friends (hey, Yuki!) and new ones (hello, Owen!). So this apology is twofold: once to myself, because this practice is life-giving and tool-crafting, and once to you, because perhaps you’ve missed these strange ramblings.
As I’ve written before, I’ve been making lighthearted New Year’s Resolutions for a few years now. If you’d like a small review:
| Year | Resolution | Outcome |
| 2020 | Jump in more puddles. | The easiest, most fun resolution ever. |
| 2021 | Spend more time in the rain. | Begrudgingly at first, joyfully by the end. |
| 2022 | 1. Wear leggings as pants. 2. Eat more gluten. | 1. I feel much more confident in myself! 2. Maybe this was easier than the puddles… |
| 2023 | 1. Sleep more. 2. Find more moments of quiet. | 1. Vague is good. Don’t measure. Just sleep in. 2. I untethered myself from other people’s words and listened to my own. |
Note that I did not “succeed” or “fail” at any of my resolutions. That is my biggest commitment in these lovely little goals: if I do it ONE TIME in the year, I’ve succeeded.
Note also that none of these resolutions really mean anything, either. They’re small actions that add joy to my life. In many ways, they are childlike. It wasn’t as intentional at first, but I’m realizing that the playfulness here is absolutely key, and it’s also given me a new lens through which to examine my life.
I’m not going to say these resolutions “changed my life” or anything big… Honestly, they sort of have. During my break between quarters, I spent several hours in the productivity YouTuber rabbit hole, and while I was initially swept up in their tidy, concise, enthusiastic recommendations, I am wary of those YouTubers with their routines and apps and systems that have “changed their lives.” After eight hours of it, I started to feel overwhelmed by the tips, tricks, and tables I need to scaffold into my life so that I can stem the chaos and funnel my energy into all the things that matter most.
I began watching these videos because I was (am) overwhelmed by the complexity of going back to school while also living a Real Life. School has always been my happy place, but I’m finding extra pressure in graduate school. The workload is heavier and more difficult, yes, but life is more complicated now. I have a partner, another roommate, a commute, extracurriculars, a quickly-shrinking bank account, no dining hall, a part-time job (eventually, hopefully) and… well, everything the world has gone through since 2015. And while I have something approximating a career path now, it’s still full of many branches and opportunities, and two years doesn’t feel like a very long time to figure that out and make sure I take the right classes.
When I finished that paragraph, I considered deleting it. No one needs a summary of why your lovely little life is weighing on you. I am so immeasurably lucky to be here, doing this thing. A few times a week, I look up from my reading and think, I got here! I’m doing this! I’m actually studying to become a librarian! So much of this pressure is self-imposed, because I’m a perfectionist with big dreams and a desperate urge to use my privilege in a way that makes the world a better place. That’s a lot of feeling behind simply turning in a 300-word paper.
But it’s there, and if you’ve been reading any of my blog, you know that I’m dedicated to finding (or creating) a lot of meaning in everything.
This is where the resolutions come in.
They’re a deliberate step back towards the lightness I want to keep in my life in and amongst all the purpose and perfectionism. They’re how I make sure I’m not taking myself too seriously. Look back at 2022. Yikes. And they’re playful. Because we need that in our lives. We just do. So I pick one little joyful thing and try to do it more each year.
In November, Tom drove me to the nearest Staples (it’s always been my favorite store, which explains even more why I need these resolutions) and told me to pick out a few things as a birthday gift. I think I wept. Tiny Taylor loved going to Staples and seeing all the school supplies, smelling that very specific officey Staples smell. I wandered around and found a few things I needed (scissors, binder tabs), and then discovered a colorful stack of sticky notes. Folder with a puppy on it that I could store my various serious readings about information science? Sold. The next aisle? Crayons. The Big Box of 64 Crayons glimmered in the fluorescent light. This was emblematic of the best thing in childhood. Those small boxes with their plain colors were nothing if someone had the Big Box of 64 Crayons with the Crayon Sharpener in the Back. When I saw those crayons, something clicked into place. Material goods aren’t supposed to bring you joy or whatever, but buying those crayons did something to me.
They are the least practical coloring tool. They break, they do not color evenly, and they fit strangely in adult hands. But I need that. I need impractical. I need to sit down and color slightly outside the lines for a little while every day.
So that’s my resolution this year. To use up all the crayons in the Big Box of 64 Crayons with the Crayon Sharpener in the Back.
I didn’t lie when I said that “these resolutions [don’t] really mean anything.” In many ways, they don’t. I come up with them because they are a fun thing to do. But while these resolutions are plain and simple, they’ve always reflected something I’ve needed more of in my life. In 2020, I wanted to be present when I was walking around Cambridge, not simply swallowed up in my thoughts. In 2021, I wanted to be more comfortable making myself uncomfortable. In 2022, I was facing these strange, irrational rules I’d set up for myself over the years (one grounded in actual health concerns that had gone away with time, the other a weird anxiety/lack of body confidence situation). Last year, I wanted to rest, both physically and mentally. I didn’t need to be doing/consuming something all the time.
And this year, I need to be doing things for no other reason than joy. The homework will get done. In fact, I’m a little behind on it because I decided to swallow that productive urge and write this instead. And that’s okay. There are many crayons in my box, and I’ll need to use them all in order to succeed. I can’t lean too heavily into one part of my life—I mean, crayon box—and miss out on the other colors.
If you’ve got a silly resolution, let me know. I’m always looking for ideas for next year. 🙂
Fluffernutter Friday 