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I hate to brag, but this is the first year I haven't yet broken at least one of my resolutions. That's because I've decided not to make any. This was not a choice I came upon lightly: a typical "first born", I've always been extremely assertive with my goals. I also belong to a generation where, growing up, it was the norm to be told by our parents, teachers and feel-good 90's films that we can do anything. Launch into space. Become president. Go big or go home. For many Millenials, following this path to inevitable greatness meant going into debt to pay for college or university, only to find that their dream job (or in some cases, any job) they had been promised simply didn't exist. Others (myself included) suffered from the mentality of too many options: if we can, literally, do anything, what exactly do we do? And, if we discover as adults that we're actually error-prone humans – not these magical, supercharged snowflakes, like we were told all along – we often don't know how to handle it. Clinical depression and anxiety are now rampant among Millennials. And yet, like everyone else, on December 31, we vow that next year, things will be different.
We'll move out of parents' basements and into glittering condos. We'll land interesting, meaningful jobs with real pay, a fantastical work-life balance (there may even be napping pods and computers which automatically shut down every day at 5PM) and a whole slew of nearby takeout places for us to Yelp about on our hour and a half lunch breaks. We'll meet Benedict Cumberbatch on an elevator and he'll be so charmed by our quirky neuroses that he'll promptly break off his engagement to what's-her-face. We'll become best friends with Lena Dunham or Mindy Kaling or whoever. We'll cut out sugar, nicotine or gluten (possibly all three), swap out convenience stores for farmer's markets and toast our brand new graduate degrees with a glass of expensive wine like a goddamn adult. We'll join a gym and finally shed those pounds we've been packing from our late-night Netflix and nacho binges. We'll also gain 15,000 followers on Instagram, our blogs and vlogs will go viral and we'll become Internet celebrities. As our list grows longer and longer, we are convinced that over the course of the next 365 days, we will proceed to turn our entire life around and become one of those beaming, happy people we always see in our Facebook newsfeeds (even if they're on anti-depressants themselves).
Herein lies the problem, and not just for Millennials. In fact, I personally believe that the unbelievable pressure to always be bigger and better isn't a generational issue but rather a continental one, stemming from the starry-eyed immigrant mentality of the "American Dream" (though I should say "North American Dream", since it equally applies to Canada). F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in The Great Gatsby:
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
That was in 1925. The phrase Keeping up with the Joneses (no Kardashian relation) was invented even earlier, 1913 to be exact. Either could have just as easily been penned (or more likely, blogged) in the past five minutes, because in spite of the 20th century's unprecedented innovation and technological advancement, everyone is, deep down, still on Ellis Island, determinedly dreaming of the incredible future that awaits them, if they can overcome the hardship and challenges along the way. The only difference is – with my generation – it's taking a hell of a lot longer to reach said future, and when we fall short, it's often a total catastrophe.
There's another factor at play here, which is good ol' human psychology. No matter how desperately we desire change, it is still frightening to such a vast number of people, which is why – as Fitzgerald said – we are "borne back ceaselessly into the past". I'm by no means a psychologist but through my lifelong fascination and limited understanding of the field (not to mention my mini library of self-help books), have come to believe that we often fail to achieve our goals (and, by extension, New Year's resolutions) because of counter-intuitive and even self-destructive "speed bumps" we subconsciously erect to protect ourselves from change. Steve Denning, a contributor for Forbes, hit the nail on the head: "The New Year acts like a psychological reset button, tricking ourselves into thinking it will be different this time." But unless we are prepared to call interference on our change-resistant behaviour, another year will go by, and we'll be no closer to the future we aspire for. Lifehacker published an excellent article probing possible causes and solutions to fear of change; Zen Habits and Psychology Today shared some wonderful insights as well. I thought I would add my own two cents to the discussion and share what I'll be doing instead of making grandiose resolutions this year.
The entire topic initially came about when I was speaking with my dad about the goals I had for the upcoming year. They didn't entail meeting Benedict Cumberbatch on an elevator but they were biggies nonetheless. Suddenly, he said to me, "Don't take on an entire year. Just focus on January. What are you going to do in January?" I was struck by this exceptionally wise yet very simple solution to the wheels churning in my head, attempting to process all these massive goals and questioning whether or not I could accomplish them over the next 365 days. Looking back to the positive changes I have managed to swing in the past, I recognized one common denominator: baby steps. Maybe it's because little changes are less scary than big ones, so there aren't as many psychological roadblocks standing in the way. Maybe we are more confident when tackling smaller tasks, with a lower risk of failure, and – through that confidence – enable our own success. Maybe Lao Tzu was right when he said "the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Whatever the reason, I've decided that, in 2015, I am going to resist my generational programming to "think big" and instead "think small".
Happy New Year,
Rachel
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