I didn't make any, 'cause I didn't quite know how to word them. There are things I need to do (eat healthier, exercise more, get serious about saving some money) and things I want to do (have a wonderful two week vacation in the spring, reconnect with college friends, be nicer to strangers). There were so many things flying around the noodle that it all felt kind of confusing, daunting, and vague.
Recently I had a conversation with a kind gentleman who is working to recover following a stroke. The conversation went something like this:
Me: What did you do for the holidays?
Him: Watched football. Ate pigs' feet.
Me: Ate what?
Him: Pigs' feet. I love them. I eat 'em a lot. Makes me crave a cold beer.
Now a nutritionist would tell you that pigs' feet aren't so good for you given the ratio of protein to fat, and many people would just tell you on instinct it isn't exactly health food.
The conversation continued to discuss what had been going on in his life recently:
Him: I don't drive any more, since I had this stroke.
Me: You'd been driving up until then?
Him: No, I stopped after my (n)th stroke. This one's my (n+1)th. I can't figure out why I keep havin' 'em.
Me: Hmmm... (visions of pigs' feet piled up on a plate beside a big frosty mug)
Sometimes, I suppose, we just can't see the things that may be slowing killing us over time, literally, figuratively, and spiritually. Sometimes, we can call them by name and even come up with plans to chase them away. But sometimes, we just don't want to make the connections.
So, my new year's resolution is just this one -- to find my own pigs' feet. Some are right there on the plate, I have guesses about some others, but surely there are some (many?) that I've haven't uncovered yet. I hope, at least, they come with a cold beer.