I think a lot about my deathbed. My thoughts are what I assume to be typical: What will I regret? What will I cherish? What will I wish I had seen? Who might I wish I spent more time with? Thinking of this moment, when there are no decisions left to make, no changes left to consider, no time left to ponder, helps me to realize the weight and power behind the decisions I make today. Visualizing that inevitable point of no return illustrates how powerful I am today simply because I have the freedom to choose.
In my most recent reflection on this topic, I came to a stunning realization. How will I reflect back on 100 Resolutions? When the future is so uncertain, when our time is so certainly limited, have I placed too much focus and energy on change and improvement when I should instead accept who I am in this moment and get out in the world and live?
Why make any resolutions at all?
[My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating as I fail to come up with an immediate response.]
Remembering those who have come and gone before me, whose legacy inspires and motivates me to make these changes and improvements, helps me form a partial answer. Like these individuals, I want to be remembered for how I choose to live. I liken my resolutions to a guide book: each one carves out the path toward the person I’d like to become, mapping my legacy and the mark I'll leave on this world when I get to that point of no return. The choices I make build my identity brick by brick, and determine how I will one day be remembered. I am committed to making sure each choice or decision, every turning point I encounter, sets me on a path that truly reflects who I am.
So, why do I resolve? I resolve so I can become the person I want to be. I resolve so my legacy is intentional and not accidental. I resolve so I live purposefully and meaningfully. I resolve simply because today, I can.