Resolution

The first one of these in January is the hardest one to do.

Much as I might like to pretend that it’s just another week to write a blog post, it isn’t. It’s the start of a new year. 52 new blog posts, with not a single solitary clue what even one of them will be about.

It would be so easy this morning to write nothing, to have a week off. I’ll do one next week. The number at the end of the year will still creep into the forties, even if I do nothing this week. 

Nobody’s out there waiting for this shit. Have some Corn Flakes, leave it out, start again on the 12^th.

It’s pretty much the same thing on this day every year. But every January up until now, I’ve dragged my carcass to my desk and pressed the ‘On’ button and set to it.

So here I am. Happy New Year, one and all!

I don’t make New Year resolutions, not really. Truth be told, I don’t really know what a resolution is. But, like everyone, I recognize that there are things I could try to do a little bit better in 2020. My list will be much the same as your list, I’ll warrant. I could stand to lose a few pounds; some additional modicum of exercise would not go amiss. These two are not unrelated and, also, I am seriously understating the need for them.

As I said, you’ll probably have much the same aspirations. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re overweight or out of condition or anything. Hey, I hardly know you. I’m just saying we’re all human and, like it or not, we all have a lot of stuff in common.

I have one other aspiration. I can’t call it a resolution because, as I already said, I don’t really know what that means. It’s just something I’d like to do better. I’m not sure I will.

It’s nothing much and it's possibly not one of yours. I’d like to write more. That’s all. I’d really like that. I’m not looking for more time to write or anything complicated like that. I’ve got some time I can use; I just need to use it more.

Some people reading this might say, “Look at him, wanting to write more. He writes plenty.” I write a bit, sure, but this New Year contemplation has served to show me that what I do is not enough. It might be enough for you or for Mrs. Whatsername down the road but it’s not enough for me. It’s a very simple equation. I can be very happy and content when I’m writing, and I can be a little closer to the opposite of that when I don’t. Ergo, I should do more and be happier.

It’s kind of a no-brainer.

But, still, it’s also kind of hard to do. Have I become lazy? I don’t always fill my writing time with writing like I used to do. I can sit and watch telly or fall asleep in front of the fire when I could just as easily be sitting here, tapping away, making myself happier.

Why do that?

What if that wasn’t a rhetorical question? What if I tried to address it, head on? Why do I toast my feet at the fire and snooze when I could be doing so much better?

Truth be told, I think it’s a confidence thing.

And don’t get me wrong. This post is by no means a cry for compliments and plaudits and such. My relationship with my writing is such that nobody can really impact it except me. By that I mean, you can tell me that I’m great until the cows come home and it won’t make a blind bit of difference. I have to be able to tell myself I’m great for it to count. And, you know, sometimes I just can’t manage that.

In my head, always and forever, I’m a Patzer. As a one-time chess player, it’s a word that fits me perfectly in my head. In case you don’t know it, it’s a term describing a poor chess player. If you look it up, that’s the definition you will find. But I actually think it’s more subtle than just that and the definition doesn't really cover that subtlety. Well, it does a bit. Some definitions remark that the term is 'relative' and that, for me is the key. You see, a Patzer is not simply a poor chess player. It’s a poor chess player relative to someone who is pretty-darned good. And that’s me to a tee. I’m probably a better writer than you are, and you, and you. But if you’re in any way pretty-darned good, then I’m probably not as good as you.

I’m a Patzer.

Mostly, I’m comfortable with that. I can operate on that plateau with some level of success and satisfaction. But when the doubt-bugs come to call, as they sometimes will, the word Patzer can appear to be writ larger across your forehead in the mirror than it usually is and that easy confidence in your mid-level place in the world can falter a bit.

And, again, please don’t get me wrong. I have a considerable writing ego and when it’s inflated, it works just fine. I have no problem seeing myself as quite a good writer when I’m on my game. No problemo. But we can’t all be on our game all the time and getting back on that game requires something that is not easy to corral.

Resolution. I must have more resolution in order to write more, even if I’m consistently badgered by a feeling that it’s going nowhere and that it’s not quite good enough.

Resolution to write myself back to a more positive place. The writing will do it, I just need the resolution to do the writing.

Resolution.

So that’s what it means.