Seun Akinlosotu: The Year We Do Not Do Resolutions
As far back as I can remember, which is probably 2.5 decades ago, I have always ushered in the new year at Church, in God’s presence – full of memories of the ending year, yet in great anticipation of the incoming year.
The new year starts off with such trepidation; how did I do last year? How much did I slack off? Did I pray, fast, live holy enough? Did I please God enough? Or should I even not bother showing face in His courts this year? Did I save enough or did I buy too many shoes and bags? Did I acquire any new taste? Did I learn any new culture, immerse myself in arts maybe? Has my walking semi adjusted from K-leg to bow leg? Did I fall in love or out of love? Did any man catch my fancy? Did I give any man a chance? Did I go on enough dates? Did I take the locks down and allow someone come close or am I just better off packing my load to a convent?
Did I do well career wise? That my boss that won’t give me a promotion – did I work hard enough? How was my work ethic? My deliverables? Did some “foreign witches fly across the atlantic” to waylay this promotion? Did I pray hard enough concerning the job or was I too lax?
or maybe craze just dey worry the man!
Have I done too many brazillian weaves this year? Did my natural hair get to breathe? Did it grow at all abi we are still on Yanribo levels? God dey sha, because all this fertilizer I invested in.
I sat in church as the cross over service rolled on and my mind was everywhere. I kept asking myself these questions, mostly criticising myself. Then I came up with a long list of changes I want to make; new things I want to do, potential destinations, all the great things I think I should have done to enrich my life the previous year but did not…and i’m hell bent on doing. For where? I don’t even remember half of them by the time mid year rolls along.
As I’ve gotten older and identified more of myself, I’ve shied away from New Year resolutions. I make mental notes of some things, but God forbid I actually voice them out or repeat them to anyone.
So, this year, for the first time in decades, I was NOT in church ushering in the New Year. I was in my friend’s house – and refused to attend their church simply because their church is a really good church but it’s a little too much for me. I’m, faith wise, in a place where there is such a thing as too much in a church. I’m officially excessively churched out!
Instead of heading to church like normal Nigerians do, I was home writing this gist out. It’s actually more of a letter to myself. See I’ve come to start understanding, and agreeing with letters to self. I used to read some self notes written by others and would before even reading the whole thing tell myself, “nkan’n damu babe yi sha”. (Something is troubling this babe) What letter are you writing to yourself biko? Can’t you just go to the mirror and address yourself there? What’s with all the senrenren?
This year, there will be no resolutions. None whatsoever. At midnight, or thereabout, I got on my knees and thanked God in hope that he could still hear me and attend His ears to my lips and my heart’s desires in the 4 corners of any room. He doesn’t only hear or answer when I’m in a gathering of like minded fellows.
This year, as I make no resolution, I am thinking maybe this is the year to stop being in church for one reason or the other up to 4-5 times a week without feeling gulity. I call this religious blackmail. I am also thinking this year is the year to actually take tangible steps to earn that promotion instead of just sprinkling anointing oil around my boss’s office, and rendering fire & brimstone against all those opposing my growth at work. The fire sef is tired of burning.
I am also thinking that perhaps this year is the year that every time I dress up, it is with the intent of looking sexy and turning heads. I have just been advised to (with hands grasping my boobs) package myself well.
This can be the year I kiss a guy on a first date, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? This might be the year that dating a Caucasian doesn’t sound like expecting Akpos to pronounce “Terpsichore” correctly. This idea is so foreign to me. Maybe this year is the year I can dress up and head to a bar or lounge on my own without feeling out of place.
Hey, maybe I’ll even go au naturale this year with my hair.
Mba, God forbid bad thing abeg!
Maybe this year, Mr.Q & I will actually be more than just friends. Orrrrrrrrrrr maybe this is the year I finally accept it can’t be more than what it is, therefore it’s time to put a permanent lid on it and move on. Will I be okay? Will he be? Will we be with other people, and our minds travel to the other, secretly wondering what the other person in doing? A longing for the other that we refuse to admit and accept?
Will this be the year Savannah realizes, just because you are in love with someone, and can’t imagine a day without them means you’ll have them, yet it’s won’t be the end of the world. Is this the year new alliances of the heart are formed? or is this the year Mr. Q…
Like I said, I’m not into New Year resolutions anymore. 🙂 but I do hope you do what works for you. I hope that this new year brings great tidings to you and yours. I hope that life aligns to serve you, that everything turns around for your good; and that God’s ears are inclined to your prayers, and that Heaven always hears you. I pray that Angels are never far from you. I wish you always, always, always, nothing but the best!
Happy New Year! Welcome to 2015.
Photo Credit: Dreamstime | Spotmatik