We tell ourselves stories in order to live.
Joan Didion, the first line of The White Album (best first line ever)
We all do it. Tell ourselves stories. It’s how we make sense of the everyday monotony of our lives. The thousands of emails, the meaningless conversations and the nonstop internal dialogue asking, “Is this really my life?” Or maybe that’s just me?
We tell ourselves stories. We create narratives where none actually exist. And every year around this time, millions of people tell themselves stories of renewal. Rebirth. Renewed effort.
This year is going to be different. This year I’m going to take better care of myself. Of my finances. Of my health. I’m going to exercise every day. I’m going to eat better.
Every day, for the past couple of weeks, my inbox has been packed with New Year’s Resolutions related emails. Some are pitches from PR companies and brands. Some are daily newsletters from brands I like, telling me that I should take advantage of the New Year and…
Everyone is grasping on to the story. The universal story. That a new calendar year should (for some random reason) mean rebirth.
Whatever. I’m not playing along. Not this year. I’ve got lots of stories in my head. Too many. I always do. But I don’t have any New Year’s Resolutions this year and I don’t plan on making any. #thatisall
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