On Resolutions and Community

It’s become popular to shit on new years resolutions: “why wait?”, “they all fail”, “systems over goals”, etc, etc. I understand the sentiment but think the criticism misses two valuable pieces. There’s a collective energy toward change and a tangible sense of a fresh start in the new year.

Just in the last week, I’ve had numerous friends and family ask me about my intentions for the new year. The new calendar creates a visual cue of a fresh canvas to start from. There’s a seasonal sense of possibility in the air.

Change is hard. It requires breaking the inertia of the status quo and building momentum toward something new. Having a community of others in it with you can provide valuable support. Embracing an end-of-year deadline can create an explicit starting point and an extra nudge to get started.

I don’t think the new year is a silver bullet for behavior change. Yet, it’s here. Why not embrace its unique elements? In today’s world, there are so few moments when people come together to embrace intentional transformation. Instead of attacking new years, perhaps we should create other dedicated times throughout the year for shared self-renewal.1

Personally, I like to pick a theme that captures my intention for the year. In 2022, it was cultivate. In every aspect of my life, it felt like a year to focus on creating conditions conducive to growing new things.

For 2023, my theme is unfolding. I sense a ton of stored energy waiting to emerge. The environment is now ripe for production. Yet, I know I need to give things space to develop naturally without forcing them. This quote from Sharon Salzberg is a perfect reminder for when I feel the desire to rush the process:

“Patience doesn't mean making a pact with the devil of denial, ignoring our emotions and aspirations. It means being wholeheartedly engaged in the process that's unfolding, rather than ripping open a budding flower or demanding a caterpillar hurry up and get that chrysalis stage over with” - Sharon Salzberg

Doubling Down on Shared Places

This connects to a broader realization of how much our environment and community shape our lives. We moved to New England so our daughter would grow up in a community of our family and friends. But this meant trading the North Carolina weather we love for cold and dark New England winters. Selecting where to live is an exercise in trade-offs. It forces us to confront the difficult questions about what matters most and what we are willing to give up for it.

In our case, we realized that nothing mattered to us as much as embracing community. Wendell Berry captures it perfectly in his book the Long-Legged House2:

“A community is the mental and spiritual condition of knowing that the place is shared, and that the people who share the place define and limit the possibilities of each other's lives. It is the knowledge that people have of each other, their concern for each other, their trust in each other, the freedom with which they come and go among themselves.” - Wendell Berry

Physical proximity helps shape in-person communities, yet it’s the people and relationships that give them meaning.

I believe this same spirit translates into virtual communities. The best ones create a strong sense that the “place is shared” in an intentional way. In the new year, I’m planning to double down on a few communities that feel particularly alive to me.