Like many of you, I've learned through personal experience that making New Year's resolutions is idiotic. It's such common practice in America, though, I think a little discussion may be in order. And I have an alternative to suggest.

We've all eaten and drunk our way through December, and now it's time for remorse, regrouping, and resolutions. We're going to lose weight, stop smoking, exercise regularly and learn Spanish or Mandarin, all while cutting down on the cocktails and only driving ten miles over the speed limit. There's one big flaw in this logic that no one ever mentions, though, and it's timing. If we were making resolutions on Memorial Day or the 4^th of July, our chances of success would skyrocket. Warm weather and blue skies encourage happiness, and happiness encourages success. Trying to improve ourselves in January is just silly. In January, we should be sitting in front of the fire reading books or dozing, like the big mammals we are.

My friend Jane has a better idea of what to do on January 1^st: pick a word for the year. This is something you can ruminate on before the fire or curled under your blankets just before you fall asleep. Choosing a word doesn't go against the seasonal requirements of your inner Grizzly.

In my five years of following this practice, the minute I open my mind to find a word, the word finds me instead. And won't go away, even when I want it to. “Surrender” was one from a few years ago that I just hated. I wanted “love” or “kindness,” something overtly positive. But “surrender” turned out to be fruitful: I learned a lot when I asked, in times of confusion during that year, “what would happen if I surrendered?”

What choosing a word does is to open up the year before you. It gives you something to explore, to look forward to and pay attention to as the weeks roll by. Sometimes you'll forget your word and need to be reminded. But it's working on you nonetheless, whether you pay careful attention or not. You're in a relationship with it that will unfold, as opposed to a resolution, which is more of a chore to be done: it's a finite idea with no room for movement, it chides you.

Once you and your word have found each other, it's good to look up the derivation in a respectable dictionary and learn its origins. Cherish is the word that claimed me this week — a 14^th century word with tri-fold roots in the Latin “carus,” which means “dear,” the Old Irish “carae,” or friend, and the Sanskrit “kama,” love. I also like its definitions of “nurture,” and “to harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely.”

Usually what I discover from my word isn't something I ever could have predicted. Try it, and see what happens to you.