About ten years ago, my sister and I were sitting in a restaurant at about this time of year, contemplating the fact that while each of us was basically very happy with our life, both of us felt that there was room for improvement. We decided to make New Year's resolutions together, resolutions that would not be a list of aspirational gestures but a serious attempt to consider our lives as a whole and deploy what intellectual resources we could muster on the question: what concrete steps, deliberately taken, would cause them to improve? What ruts were we in, and how could we get out of them? What interesting new habits of mind would be likely to do us good, and what, exactly, could we do to develop them? Each of us came up with rather long lists of steps to take, and every year since then I have had a list of something like thirty resolutions which I undertake.
Some of my resolutions are specific to a given year; they are commitments to myself to do something specific that I might otherwise never get around to. (Next year, for instance, will finally be the year that I redo my front walkway, and also the year in which I figure out how to get my state rep. to introduce legislation banning the private ownership of primates in Maryland.) Some of them are the usual (exercise and the like), though I tend to try to make them more specific than that (e.g., exercise a certain number of days a week.) Some of them involve trying not to lose skills that might otherwise atrophy: living alone, for instance, it takes a resolution to get me to seriously cook once a week, rather than relying on the excellent prepared food at my local market. Some involve things I would otherwise wish I did more of: I usually resolve to go out and see some form of art at least once a month, since otherwise, my life being what it is, this might fall through the cracks.
But many of them are, as I said, attempts to figure out how to instill in myself habits of mind that I want to have. And since there are a few of these that have, over the years, been really good, I thought I'd share a couple. (Note: if anyone finds them useful, I should say that most of the credit for these goes to my sister.)
First: every year I resolve to do something new every day. It is, of course, important to be clear on what counts as a new thing. When my sister and I first made this resolution, it made for amusing comparisons between our circles of friends. The philosophers I know tended to think that this was trivial: just count things like, 'I drew breath on Jan. 1 2005' as a new thing, and you're set forever. My sister's friends, by contrast, tended to think of 'new things' as 'huge new things', like going to Antarctica, and wondered how she could possibly have made such an enormous resolution. But we take a middle ground: 'new things' include, for instance, taking a new way home, trying a new flavor of soda, and the like.
The point of this resolution is just to make sure that whenever I am not in some situation in which novelty comes naturally (e.g., in another country), I am on the lookout for ways of doing things that I have not done before, and that when I have a choice between something I've done before and something I haven't, I'm less likely to go with the familiar. Because I have this resolution (and because it does lead to moments when I think, oh no, it's 8:30 p.m. and I have not done a new thing, groan), I tend to keep my eye out for ways of satisfying it, and thus I am always asking myself: is there some different way of doing this? Some other thing I might try? Which buildings on campus have I not yet set foot in? Which kinds of cheese have I never tried? Which neighborhoods in my city are completely unknown to me? Why not try this different bike path? And so forth. And this makes my life better, both by introducing all sorts of new things into it (some of the cheeses I will never try again, but some were wonderful discoveries), and by instilling a particular cast of mind that I value.
Another resolution: I will do some unnecessary good thing every week. 'Unnecessary' is not the right word here; what it means is, basically, a good thing that I would not have done without this resolution. Helping out my friends and my students, giving money to tsunami relief, and so forth, are all things I would do anyways. The point of this resolution, as with the previous one, is to get me to be on the lookout for other good things I might not have noticed, and might not otherwise have done. They don't have to be particularly large or striking -- before I found out that it was illegal, I used to count putting coins in all the expired parking meters -- but they must exist. And while it's OK to have a few fallbacks (for me: driving off to some park where the trash is never picked up, and filling up a bag of trash), I try to think of new ones. Again, it's both the actual deeds and the cast of mind that I value. (And without this resolution, I would not have a clear idea of which parks are not regularly maintained -- hint, in the inner city -- and this sort of concrete knowledge of the place I live in also matters to me.)
I suppose one might regard this as an oblique reply to Sebastian's last post: it's hard to divide the world into people who want to try to achieve some particular goal and people who believe in dynamism once you realize that dynamism is among the things you might try to achieve through technocratic means (which I think is an unattractive, but probably accurate, way of describing what I do with New Year's resolutions). Unless you restrict the goals of technocrats to absolutely static states of affairs, like my living in my current house forever, or my having exactly one car, you can't rule out such attempts; and if you can't, I think the distinction collapses.
But be that as it may, resolutions have made my life a lot better. And while most of the people who learn that I have somewhere around thirty resolutions regard this as evidence of some hitherto unsuspected totally anal streak, I just think it's fun.
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