Inverted new year’s resolutions

Did you know new year’s resolutions were four thousand years old?

Babylonians used to have an end of year festival where they made promises to the gods to pay their debts and return any objects they had borrowed.

If they kept to their word, their gods would bestow favor on them for the coming year. If not, they would fall out of the gods’ favor.

Fast forward to today. Resolutions are now mostly secular practice. Instead of making promises to the gods, most people make resolutions only to themselves.

Gallup conducted a poll showing the top new year’s resolutions:

Get healthier, improve finances, be more productive, reduce stress, improve mental health, learn something new, improve relationships, quit unhealthy habits and change jobs.

However, only eight percent are successful in achieving their goals. So clearly, these categories aren’t working for us.

Maybe it’s time to come up with different resolutions.

Instead of learning something new, try forgetting something old.

So much of our suffering comes from outdated beliefs that are too convenient to be killed. We cling to legacy ideas like a children’s stuffy toy, and wonder why we’re not happy.

What if it’s time to let one of those go? To evolve our thinking to a place where we scarcely remember what we used to believe?

I’ll give you an example. Eat when you’re hungry. Sounds like a healthy, mature and intelligent goal, right? Almost rebellious. I can hear a younger version of me saying, the whole concept of meals is arbitrary and stupid, man. Nobody’s the boss of me. I don’t buy into societal structures around food consumption. I eat when I’m hungry. I

It’s a nice theory. But it doesn’t hold up with reality.

Because sometimes you need to eat when you’re not hungry. When your body is depleted and needs refueling, food gives you the energy and nourishment you require to carry on. Your feelings are irrelevant.

My mood doesn’t get a say. I’m eating right now, so I can make it through the afternoon without collapsing at the playground.

Now, there’s corollary to that. Sometimes you need to not eat when you are hungry. At night, I could easily crush two frozen burritos in five minutes flat. That would feel delicious, satisfying, and help me regulate the stress of the day. And I could tell myself a story about how I deserve it, and how I should reward myself for a job well done.

Or I could just go to bed. I could skip that third meal entirely, pass out at seven thirty without a pit of cheese and beans in my gut, and enjoy eating breakfast when I wake up.

Both of these examples are old beliefs. I eat when I’m hungry, I don’t eat when I’m not hungry. Seems like a good new year’s resolution to not be constrained by them anymore.

After all, growth requires uninstalling frameworks that once worked but now quietly mislead you.

Instead of losing weight, try gaining weight.

Probably the number one resolution across the board. Because who doesn’t want to be thinner in the new year, right?

But I would argue one of the deepest sources of people’s unhappiness in life is not enough weight.

And I’m not talking about belly fat. I’m talking about responsibility. Duty. Commitment.

I think what people need in the new year is to gain weight. To ramp up their meaning making efforts, so their lives are heavier.

When I think back to the loneliest, saddest, and most unfulfilled periods of my life, the source of my suffering wasn’t walking around with ten extra pounds. The real problem was that I didn’t have enough to carry. Nobody needed me. I hadn’t put myself in enough positions of usefulness and service.

And like the song lyric goes, the only burden is having nothing to carry.

The irony is, if you actually have a full schedule with work to do and tasks to complete and people whose lives you contribute to, you might actually lose a few pounds.

I spent the first fifteen years of my career as an entrepreneur. Twelve of those years were great. But during the last few, I started having weekly anxiety attacks. I was feeling isolated, depressed and burned out. Because I had reached the point of diminishing returns. I was essentially weightless. No projects, no clients, no prospective clients, no coworkers.

At that point in my career, I was just breathing my own exhaust. I didn’t need more me, I needed a new gig with a steady stream of challenges.

So I wrote myself a letter of resignation, retired from my first career, and got a job as a copywriter at an ad agency. Pay sucked, people were douches, and the hours were long.

But hell, I could have had a job as a fucking janitor at that point. As long as it forced me to carry more than my current load, it was a win.

That decision transformed my life in a way nothing else could. I’m so glad I decided to gain weight that summer. I wonder what new load your life is asking you to carry.

Instead of praying more, try asking for less.

Prayers, as a new year’s resolution, is not as high on the list as, say, read more books, spend more time with family, or wake up earlier. But for the spiritually inclined, it’s up there.

Which I happen to think is great. Psychological research suggests prayer can be helpful, offering benefits like reduced stress, anxiety, loneliness, and improved empathy. Prayer can calm the nervous system, foster hope, and improve emotional regulation. I recite a prayer every morning right after my journaling exercise. It’s one of my favorite rituals.

Of course, I don’t know if there’s a god. And even if there was, I don’t know that I would believe in him. But I enjoy praying. It’s existentially grounding to start off my day with a couple of minutes of presence, gratitude and trust. That’s enough for me.

Although here’s a more interesting new year’s resolution most people don’t think about.

Don’t pray more, ask for less.

Restore a little agency. You don’t need to outsource your responsibility. Go out and make something happen. Unhook yourself from learned helplessness and change your relationship to reality.

God himself made a rare public appearance recently. In his interview with sixty minutes, here’s what he said:

My inbox used to look like customer support for a malfunctioning vending machine. Parking spots. Promotions. Exes coming back. Sports outcomes. January first, I would brace myself. Suddenly everyone remembered I existed. It was like being tagged in a group project nobody worked on all semester. But this year, things were different. People started taking action on their dreams without relying on my intervention. They still prayed, but asked for less. And I’m so proud of my little humans. They haven’t really figured anything out yet, but at least they stopped assuming I was supposed to do all the work. Thank god. I have dreams too, you know.

I’m onto something here, I can tell.

Forget something old.
Gain weight.
Ask for less.

Sounds like a happy new year to me.