I am never going to learn to ride a bike. I missed my window of opportunity due to a broken leg when I was 8. By the time it healed, I was too embarrassed to admit I'd never learned and it quickly became one of those 'someday' things that kept getting put off. I no longer bounce when I fall. Bike-riding is now off the table.
In the same vein, I am probably never going to regain my youthful level of fitness. I may exercise under duress, but I am never going to willingly run or lift weights or play sports. Goodbye golf clubs, tennis rackets, exercise mats...No, thank you.
I am never going to complete even a tenth of the projects I have materials for. Somehow, over the years, I have convinced myself that I will draw, paint, embroider, weave, quilt, collage, bookbind, print, construct, sew, compile, photograph, or learn about any number of things. I am an excellent salesman when it comes to this sort of thing. Either that, or I am an extremely gullible consumer of my own fantasies. I am officially giving up on almost all these vain pretensions. Materials go to UpCycle. Efforts go toward accomplishing a chosen few of these aspirations.
I am never going to use one hundredth of the recipes I have lovingly copied from, or dog-eared in, my vast collection of cookbooks. Nor will my clipping file ever be converted to neat index cards in my gorgeous wooden file box. I will accept the fact that I will continue to read cookbooks till the day I die, but, unless I am inspired to actually make the dish immediately, it ain't gonna happen. Cookbooks shall become recreational reading and I am not compelled to save and file anything.
I am never going to have an orderly collection of photos. The trunkload of family pictures, past vacations, and (regrettably) unidentified people and places will remain as they are: an occasional afternoon saunter down memory lane, with a desultory sorting into envelopes labeled with the approximate year and location. I would love to HAVE all these converted to a neat row of photo books on the shelf, but I don't want to organize the photos enough to actually MAKE them.
In short, I'm copping out on New Year's resolutions this year in favor of a good strong dose of reality. This list is barely a teaspoon from that bottle: there's plenty more where that came from. However, you will note that none of my resignations involve writing. That I shall continue to do...and herewith, another sample:
Good Intentions
I
am surely on the road to hell;
I
recognize the paving.
In
fact, I think
I
own the truck
and
all the equipment
required
to resurface
this
slippery and sloping
path
to perdition.
I’ve
been at it for a long, long time:
books
I meant to read,
diet
resolutions, junk removal,
aborted
dinner parties,
the
poems never submitted,
the
classes that I failed to take ..
the
multiple colors of my misled life
coalescing
in one great mosaic of regret,
with
a purposeful double line
leading
to the flames.
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