I’m not normally one to make New Year’s resolutions. Not because I’m overly cynical about them, but mostly because I forget: I forget that others have the idea of pinning their hopes of change to one particular day of the year, so then I don’t remember to think about them on the same particular day other people are making resolutions. I’m all for change though, I do think that if one put one’s mind to something, make a nice step by step plan to get there (I like plans!), one can change for the better. (I’m an optimist like that!)

New Year’s resolutions have been a frequent topic of conversation at a couple of Christmas parties I’ve been to, so I have been thinking about them a bit more recently, along with everyone else:

At one party, one of my friends, a disbeliever in writing lists of resolutions, talked about his tradition of writing all his bad things he’d like to change or get rid of, and then burn the paper in the fire.

Someone else’s auntie would write her resolutions down, then lock them away til the following New Year’s Eve, where she’d read them out to see how well she’d done over the course of the year.

It occurred to me this Christmas that it is the first time I haven’t felt like needing to put an ‘automatic essay machine’ or ‘marking criteria sheet’ to the top of my Christmas wish list. Hooray for that! (admittedly this is almost entirely down to a change in circumstances having left university, rather than me miraculously becoming a fluent essay writer or getting a view into the uni tutor’s mind.)

What I realized I would have liked to have on my Christmas list this year, is trust. To be able to trust myself. (I suppose it is one positive thing that in keeping to my core beliefs, “Others are perfect; The world is good”, I generally don’t have a problem trusting other people.) However as I’m sure my family would have had a hard time wrapping a bit of trust up, perhaps this is more suited to new year’s resolution.

Some specific things that come to mind:

  • Trust that I won’t make a fool of myself when I answer the telephone.
  • Trust that I can make polite small talk with others.
  • Trust that, yes, I did indeed lock up my land lady’s house properly.
  • Trust than I’m not sticking out like a sore thumb among everyone else.
  • Trust my subconscious  to deal with things like breathing and gravity.
  • Trust that I am doing ok with my work, that the nice Christmas card the office director gave me wasn’t just given out of politeness, and they’re about to fire me any way (though I’m still freaked that’s true).
  • Trust that I can be capable, and hopefully eventually be helpful to others too.
  • Trust that I can cope.

Now I just need to work out a nice little step by step plan to learn to trust and rely on myself. Though it’ll probably be more helpful to me if I don’t lock that away in a cupboard for a year! And maybe at the same time I’ll burn up a piece of paper saying I’m a hope- and help- less little idiot  squirt.