The title of this post may sound suspiciously like it’s leading up to a New Year’s Resolution, but it’s not. Also known as, “The main things I plan to change next year but am not going to,” resolutions are made to be broken. All my self-made promises of regimented workout routines, valiant housekeeping practices, and inspired money management programs were lovely suggestions that passed on by like dry leaves caught in the wind.
Instead, I like to make a New Year’s plan, and that will forever be a standard practice in my little universe. My visiting daughter suggested another tradition on New Year’s Eve, and I like it. She asked each of us, “What are you going to leave behind, and what are you going to take with you in the coming year.” Tonight, for the first time in many weeks, I drew a bath and took my time. Instead of hurrying about like my hair was on fire, I let myself enjoy each step. It was a little secret, 20-minute gift to myself.
Watching my daughter with her fabulous, exuberant, young child brought back memories of times that were so rich yet so packed with activity; just to make it to the end of the day still standing was a feat in itself. I remember often feeling defeated before the day even started, a strange mix of feelings with being so in love with this little human I cared for, all the while reeling from the effects of self-neglect. Some thirty years ago my New Year’s Plan was to let myself off the hook and adopt the “ten-minute plan.” I realized that promising myself to work out one full hour each Monday through Friday was a vow no single parent could consistently keep. It’s a setup for failure. But, ten minutes of yoga on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday was a commitment I knew anybody, not completely without fortitude, could manage.
So here I am, decades later, and still benefiting from my ten-minute routines. But reminders are always helpful, and the “leaving and taking” ask from my daughter offered a bit of a wake-up. In getting older, and still expecting myself to keep up like I did in my twenties and thirties, I too often forgo processes that will benefit my body and soul. Instead of a nice long bath, it’s a rapid shower. Instead of balm for sore joints, it’s 2 Tylenol and just ignore it. Instead of a short walk to decompress, it’s folding a few more clothes to get it done. But the clothes will wait while ignoring self-care takes its toll. The “Ten-minute plan” is for everybody, from aging, achy seniors to bustling young new mothers!
This year, I’m leaving behind self-neglect and taking the “Ten-minute plan” with me. And the best part of the “Ten-minute plan” is you can do just the minimum, and you feel like you’ve won the day. But you mostly end up doing more, mostly.