How many of you have managed to keep your New Year’s resolutions? How many of you remember your New Year’s resolutions for 2022? And how many of you have found joy and fulfilment because you kept them?
Recently, I posed these questions to a group in a whole-practice seminar and was met with a communal shoulder hunch. What a ridiculous question to put to anyone in November! What an ineffectual method of raising morale!
Maybe my methods seem counter-intuitive, but I had reasons to ask these questions quickly before the Christmas festivities set in – festivities which usually include indulgence.
Indulgence is often judged as “wrong” and interchanged with “over-indulgence”, which is also judged as wrong. “Decadent”, “naughty” and “forbidden” are all words used to describe chocolate and wine. Or, if you attend weight reduction organisations, “sins”. Other “sins” include crisps, nuts and even bananas and avocados (formerly known as superfoods).
It is this habitual tendency to be judgemental that makes us categorise foods, drinks, experiences, feelings, weather patterns, etc, as right or wrong.
Mindful living or judgement?
A huge emphasis of mindful living is on being non-judgemental (as discussed in previous articles). If we free ourselves of the constant need to judge things – other people, our emotions, etc – we become liberated, and a weight is lifted off our shoulders.
If we free ourselves of the constant need to judge things […] we become liberated, and a weight is lifted off our shoulders
Because we have spent most of our lives categorising our experiences into good and bad boxes, it takes a lot of effort to break that habit. Only by consciously focusing on being non-judgemental for a few minutes at a time, and then for longer and longer, can we begin to feel that relief. The good feelings that come from this liberation become the reward and the impetus to continue being non-judgemental. It takes effort and must be a conscious decision.
So, what does non-judgement have to do with your resolution to have a dry January or to lose 2kg by March? Well, in making our New Year’s resolutions, we are setting ourselves goals we want to achieve. There’s nothing harmful in that – the danger lies in how we are lining ourselves up for failure and the self-flagellation which ensues.
The “failure” cycle
The very thing we were hoping to gain by setting these resolutions – improved self-confidence, better liver function or healthier bodies – can often become even more out of our reach when we “fail” and then give up.
For example, by breaking my New Year’s resolution to have a dry January, after one glass of wine I might think, “I may as well finish the bottle because once the resolution’s broken, there’s no going back, right?” Or, “Now that I’ve had two biscuits, I may as well eat the entire top layer of the biscuit tin because I’m a failure at this.” Come the end of January, I haven’t lost a pound, so: “there’s no way I’ll be slimmer by June. Maybe I’ll try again next year.”
So, by following this path, not only have I achieved nothing I wanted to achieve, but I’ve actually damaged my self-confidence even further and brought my mood to an even lower level than it was when I made the resolutions in the first place.
Not everyone is in this position. For some, New Year’s Day brings a fresh target that is achieved and exceeded each year, and their self-esteem rises as a result. I am not in this cohort, so I’d like to propose a different way of setting goals this coming year.
Making New Year’s intentions
The “middle milk”
New Year’s intentions differ from New Year’s resolutions. It’s not just semantics. An intention to do something makes it more achievable, despite the gentler phrase.
A cherished Swedish colleague recently introduced me to the phrase “middle milk”, a sort of “neither here nor there” – it’s not full-fat nor skimmed, but it’s sort of semi-skimmed/watered down.
A New Year’s intention is far from being “middle milk”. In fact, because it is more likely to get the results we want, it is the crème de la crème of milk. For example, if I make a New Year’s intention to drink less, then every evening I drink less than I used to, I have “made it”. I have got a result, kept my intention and achieved my goal. Similarly, if I drink the same or more than I used to one evening, I haven’t failed to the point where I may as well give up, binge the next night and restart the self-flagellation. I have simply drunk more than I intended.
Every night that I achieve my intention can be seen as a win. It’s hard to fail at an intention.
Recognising self-flagellation
If I eat two biscuits, I’ve eaten two biscuits. But a lack of self-kindness could mean that this two-biscuit event could spiral into finishing the packet because “I’m such a failure” and a “resolution-breaker”, so “I don’t deserve to be healthier or slimmer”.
Lack of self-judgement must be worked for; it doesn’t come naturally to most of us. And in our profession, self-flagellation is nearly a prerequisite for the job
Body shaming is outdated and vile, yet we body shame ourselves daily. If only slim people went on the beach, we’d be living in Rio. Eating biscuits doesn’t stop your worthiness to breathe sea air and make sandcastles. Only you do that to yourself.
So, with a calmer, less judgemental mindset, I can be more logical and less urgent in my approach to myself and my New Year’s intentions. (Two biscuits are less likely to affect my mood than 20 biscuits.) Therefore, instead of the self-destructive behaviours of last year, I can just stop at two biscuits and see how I get on the next day. Without the huge sense of failure that inevitably follows the breaking of a New Year’s resolution, the morning after an evening when I drink the whole bottle can be a new day where the intention is the same as the one before.
Lack of self-judgement must be worked at; it doesn’t come naturally to most of us. And in our profession, self-flagellation is nearly a prerequisite for the job.
Intentions to tackle self-flagellation
To be less self-critical, we have to make a conscious decision to be less self-critical. Sometimes when we fail, the self-loathing we habitually feel can lead us to “punish” ourselves by bingeing some more. Therefore, making intentions instead of resolutions can be helpful because they help reduce self-loathing to a mild degree of disappointment when we “fall off the wagon”.
Making intentions instead of resolutions can be helpful because they help reduce self-loathing to a mild degree of disappointment when we “fall off the wagon”
At the turn of the 20th century, the Anti-Saloon League formed and persuaded its members to pledge eternal sobriety to develop better character and set a good example. “Falling off the wagon” became a phrase for when someone who made this pledge had a drink. These days, whoever uses the phrase “falling off the wagon” is possibly someone that subconsciously wants to “fail” as an excuse to abandon the resolution and continue as before. More likely, it is used by someone who has lost all confidence in their ability to keep their New Year’s resolutions after years of low achievement. Perhaps they are ashamed because they presume others judge them as harshly as they judge themselves for “falling”.
This year I intend to be less self-berating when I inevitably do something I would have previously judged as wrong.
