Like so many others, I reject the notion of resolutions based on our fabricated time frame. If you don't have enough resolve to move towards a goal on December 30th, you won't miraculously find it by January 1st.
I do not, however, reject the idea of reflecting on the past and making plans for the future. Mostly, though, I raise my glass to the future.
One thing I will not be considering, resolving or planning to join is the lemming race to diet madness*. It pains me that so many bright, talented, funny women (and men) dedicate inordinate amounts of time, energy and money to this self-hate activity. Or intense self-dislike...however you justify. It goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway, since in our thin-worshipping society, I've just done the equivalent of a devout Catholic peeing on the pontiff) that the goal of good health is a worthy activity and not about self-hate but that is NOT why 95% of the population tortures their bodies. And 95% may be understating the issue. Women, focus your tremendous, creative energy on healthy endeavors...you are so much more valuable than your ideal weight...whatever that is.
A couple of quotes to start things off that reflect my current reflections:
Dieting is the most potent political sedative in women’s history; a quietly mad population is a tractable one.[via Kate Hardings Shapely Prose]
And dedicated to my DIY fervor and firm grip on intellectual irony:
The society which scorns excellence in plumbing because plumbing is a humble activity, and tolerates shoddiness in philosophy because philosophy is an exalted activity, will have neither good plumbing nor good philosophy. Neither its pipes nor its theories will hold water.[via Bungalow Bathrooms, by Jane Powell]
–John W. Gardner
*And gentle readers, I'm a big
Why?, I tardily reacted to the past insult, Do you think I need to be on a diet? Are you calling me fat? My friend, dear person that she is, seemed unsettled because she, like most people, probably thinks that yes, a diet wouldn't hurt me. Of course, I started dieting at the age of 10, and it has in fact, hurt me both physically and psychologically. And to what end? Rare moments at my "ideal weight" sandwiched** between decades of energy wasted on self-disgust and ruining my body's ability to regulate itself. Basta.
But she didn't deserve the diatribe.
Wish I had a warning label I could slap on my forehead when I'm about to blow. Maybe a red light attached to my cranium that would start blinking...
**I love using food metaphors for anti-dieting commentary.