Tweak the relationship between strengths and weaknesses. Be the 16%.
“Only 16% of people manage to keep their New Year’s Resolutions,” The Gaping Void blog recently published. That means 86% of us will fail. Especially if our resolutions “are trying to fix a long-term fault” like losing weight, going to the gym daily, or changing an undesirable habit.
Why do we fail so often? Because “It’s difficult to change an aspect of your personality by sheer force of will,” the post continues, “And if it is a weakness you choose to work on, you probably won’t enjoy the process. If you don’t find pleasure or reinforcement along the way . . . you’ll soon give up.”
The solution, provided through the wisdom of Jonathan Haidt, is, “Work on your strengths, not your weaknesses.”
“Instead of saying, ‘I’m going to lose weight,’” The Gaping Void explains, “say, ‘I really love salad. Next year, I plan to eat more of it.’ Or, ‘I really loved tennis when I was a kid. I think I might take it up again.’”
Instead of focusing on where you need to improve, embrace what you love. And I love that.
Instead of trying to “fix what’s ‘wrong’ with us {which} is never fun and rarely works,” simply “tweak the relationship between our strengths and our weaknesses and choose to look at it from a different perspective.” Again, I just love that.
It is easy to fixate on what is “wrong” with us when reflecting. The way we behave in stressful situations, our innate ability to say the wrong thing when we desperately mean not to, or the extra pounds we carry. Whatever it is, when we look in the mirror, that fault is the only thing we see.
Believing we can suddenly fix them, simply because the calendar changed a day, does little more than add to the weight of guilt, frustration, and defeat. And when we fail it only encourages what we already believe, that we cannot change. “I simply cannot do this anymore,” we whisper to ourselves or cry into the abyss.
Because it’s true. We can’t. The majority of us can’t, anyway. I know I can’t. And I have a 20-ish years-long list of unfulfilled resolutions to prove it.
Especially recently.
This past year I have been crippled by the harsh realities of my insufficiency. In all walks of life, when I evaluate and consider who I am and what I’ve done, I am disappointed, embarrassed, and ashamed. Which is why, for the first time in 20-ish years, I have no New Year’s Resolution. There are simply too many wrongs that need fixing, and I have lost hope.
“High-functioning depression” has suddenly entered my Google results.
This reality has not only confused me, it has frightened me. I’m not supposed to be this way. I’m supposed to be strong, funny, confident, and stable.
I’m supposed to be a man. A father. A husband. A principal. I’m supposed to be better.
There simply is no room for this shit.
Yet, it is here. Unwanted and uninvited.
And I cannot fix it.
This is why I truly appreciated the above post by The Gaping Void. Largely because it doesn’t attempt to fill my mind with the typical, “This will be your year!” bullshit. Instead, it offers a simple challenge: tweak the relationship between your strengths and weaknesses and choose to look at it from a different perspective.
A different perspective can often lead to a different purpose.
When I consider my shortcomings and disappointments, they are exhausting. What plummets me, however, is when I stop there. When I fixate on lost opportunities, failed endeavors, broken relationships, and failed tries. When I fixate on myself, I get discouraged. When I focus on others, however, I have reason.
I have reason to get out of bed and head to work because my family needs me.
I have reason to head to work because my students need someone to see them.
I have reason to hear my teachers because they need someone to trust them.
When I focus on others, I have reason to keep going because maybe “My year” has nothing to do with me but everything to do with the people around me.
Maybe “my year” focuses less on where I am struggling and frustrated and a hellova lot more on why others are struggling and frustrated. And what I can do about it.
Maybe “my year” isn’t about tweaking what is wrong with me but embracing what is right with me, being comfortable and confident with that, and believing, truly believing, it is enough because it is what I have. What I’ve been given. What I’ve been gifted.
Maybe “my year” is tweaking the relationship between my strengths and my weaknesses and choosing to look at Life from a different perspective.
Maybe this is the year I am the 16%.
#doGREATthings!
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