Have you heard about the man who moved into a retirement community to spend the rest of his life there? It wasn’t long until he had made a number of friends among the other residents.
There was one lady to whom he was especially attracted, and she was attracted to him, also. So, they spent a lot of time together. Finally, one evening he proposed, asking her to marry him.
The next morning he woke up remembering his proposal, but he couldn’t remember her answer. So, he went to her and said, “I’m really embarrassed. I proposed to you last night, but I can’t remember if you said ‘Yes’ or ‘No.”’
“Oh, thank goodness!” she replied. “I remembered saying ‘Yes’ but I couldn’t remember who asked me.”
Sometimes I feel that way about New Year’s resolutions. I tell myself, “This year I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I’m going to exercise more regularly and lose some weight. I’m going to do all kinds of things to improve myself physically, mentally, and spiritually.”
But then somehow, I forget–not just that I made the resolutions in the first place but what they even were, exactly.
Maybe you have that problem, too.
This year, instead of charging into the New Year with a resolution for this and another for that, I’m simply going to focus on one thing: slowing down and taking it in— “it” being the year, which means taking in each day, one day at a time, and of course, that reduces nto each moment at a time.
Hopefully, I’ll be a better person as a result, which will increase the chances of achieving all those goals for self-improvement, which I keep forgetting anyway.
If I slow down, I’ll be able to pay attention to each moment God’s brings me.
I’m going to get better acquainted with that bird who greets me early in the morning as the sun peeps over the trees. Maybe I’ll take time and find out just what species it is and even give my bird a name.
And come spring, I’m going to take more time in my garden. Who knows, maybe those plants will speak to me again.
I plan to frequent not only the woods surrounding the Abbey of Gethsemani, but other nature trails, too. Maybe I’ll conquer that knob I see in the distance as I’m writing these words. And I’ll vow to listen to God’s creation as I trek, step by step, in that direction.
I’ll slow down and listen to the people God brings my way, too. I am resolved to be a better listener. If I’m talking, it’s much less likely that I’m going to learn something new, so I’m going to be quicker to listen and slower to talk.
And some people will no doubt say critical, unkind things, so to listen to them, I’m going to have to stay calm, for slowing down will challenge not just my outward pace, but my inward peace, which regulates everything else.
I admit, I’m not a natural when it comes to humility: I lean toward self-confidence, self-focus, and self-exaltation. But, I won’t let my failures and temporary setbacks ignite in me a flourish of activity designed to cover-up my shortcomings. I’ll slooow down, forcing myself to deal with those character flaws.
Instead of looking at the faults of others, I’m going to take more time to see their good. I’ll begin each day by asking God to direct my thoughts, then repeat Thich Nhat Hanh’s mantra; “Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully in each moment and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.”
I’m tempted to shout, “What an order,” and give up before I start.
But my fear only reminds me of my need for peace, which comes not at the end of the year as a reward, but as a pathway for life, granted one day at a time.
Just one day at a time?
Yes, just one day: I think I can remember that.