Anyone can make resolutions that they won’t follow through on — lose 20 pounds, clean more often, be on time for work… I, on the other hand, want to make changes to my life that lend themselves to being kept.

Therefore, in this year of 2006, I do hereby resolve:

• To see more movies in the theater. So often I mean to go and don’t. The video store can become a resource for all those movies that have already come out.
• To bake more. I love to bake. I’m good at it. People enjoy what I make. It’s a very basic way of sharing of myself and my time. And I have all those cookbooks and recipes just waiting to be tried out.
• To entertain more. I don’t tend to invite people over because it requires a massive cleaning each time I do. But after they’ve gone home, I always think how worth it the frantic cleaning had been. The end does justify the means.
• To call and write more often. I’m bad at keeping in touch. I call periodically and write even less. But I experience such love and happiness when other people phone or send letters. I have to remember that others are just as busy as I am (if not more so) and that the love you give is worth the love you take. That and I have nice stationery.
• To spend more time outside. As Rudi and I were sorting through photos for his mom’s calendar, we kept being taken by the shots from outdoors. D.C. is home to a lot of nice outdoor venues — like Rock Creek Park and the FDR Memorial — and I don’t take enough advantage of them on my bike or by foot.
• To frequent the library. I made one paltry visit to the library last year. One. Yes, my job sends me to at least three conventions a year where they give away books. And, yes, the D.C. library is highly inadequate compared to the libraries I’m accustomed to. But it won’t get better if people don’t use it. So I should take that book of books I’d like to read and start checking the books out. The added incentive is that if I don’t like the books, I can take them back without any guilt. And I might find some gems.
• To take more advantage of the local resources. There are Smithsonian museums I have not yet set foot in. I have never been to the Library of Congress (of course, if they’d let me take books out of there, I’d visit the library daily!). I have never seen Monticello. And apparently there’s a women’s history museum over in Southeast.
• To look for a new job. I don’t have to take it. But it would be good to remind myself that there are many things I like about my current job and that I’m not there simply because they were the only ones who wanted me.
• To take a class. In something. In anything. Maybe to do with baking. Or knitting. Or a foreign language. Or yoga. Or how to play the guitar. But I’ve been away from classes for nearly five years now and I find I miss the learning environment.
• To knit something for myself. I haven’t knit anything for myself since the very first project I did more than a year ago. I have bought yarn for some projects for me, have received supplements to the stash, and have a sock sitting on needles that’s awaiting its completion and its mate. As long as I don’t give it all away, I should be fine.
• To do good. Dogooders can depress me and it’s just because I’m jealous. I haven’t figured out what I’m passionate about and how to turn that into a “Rewarding Volunteer Experience.” I should give up worrying about it being an RVE and just do something to help someone because I can. The time has come to stop complaining, get off the sidelines, and join the game. By the time I’m halfway in, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that participation is its own reward.
• To spend more attention on Rudi. We spend a lot of time together. But we’re watching tv or I’m reading or knitting. And sometimes we’re out and Rudi is talking to someone else and he says something profound and I think, “Now, why didn’t I know that?” Instead of half-listening (the way I’m sometimes prone to doing), I need to work on truly hearing.
• To appreciate as much as I can. One of the final scenes in Our Town has Emily coming back to view her past life from beyond the grave. She is told to choose an ordinary day and is devastated by how little she or her loved ones appreciated the small things, let alone the large moments. It’s probably too much to hope to achieve on a year-long scale; but maybe I can work on trying for some of those everyday moments I’ll look back for when I’m old.