Resolutions for a lifetime

As I watched from my hotel room the fireworks over Central Park, I

was filled with that feeling that you get from looking at blank

pages, empty rooms and photos that came out black. It is that scared

tingle of possibility. The emotion that questions most everything

around us, that thing that makes us reason with our contemptible and

comfortable surroundings. I stood on that freezing terrace letting

the chilled wind brush up against my face thinking of a new year,

thinking of last New Year’s when I had no idea that my grandfather

would get sick, that a close friend would die or that I would start

writing this column.

After the fireworks had stopped illuminating the sky and the good

people of New York had stopped blowing horns and screaming, the party

settled down, and talk started about that cliche statement that must

be brought up. The word itself trivializes the true meaning of what

they are and how they can affect us. The “resolutions” that we make

are a classic and unrealistic tradition that never works. As I sat

thinking of mine, I thought of how no matter what I promised myself

that somehow I would not follow through. Everyone agreed with me that

almost every single resolution had been broken within the first few

days of the sacred promise. We are a civilization of talk, gossip and

promise. We all read tabloids, gossip and judge. Maybe it was the

opening of Pandora’s box or an instinct that lies within all of us.

We all talk about how we want to go to the gym, how we want to be

kinder, not cuss, take a trip to Italy, or just to be a better

person. What ever it may be, these little tokens of our faith in our

own self is somewhat always broken. Why can’t we get our act

together? Is it that we have no faith in our own stamina, that our

confidence is just a facade we apply in public?

Commitment is this scary word that seems to bring on so many

negative connotations. Commitment to our resolutions, to our wives

and family, to our job, and to ourselves, all of these things bring

to mind a small box with the walls closing in. Why do I, and almost

everyone, shirk away from the obligation of life? Am I flake, are we

all flakes in modest ways? Some don’t do things because it doesn’t

help them, but even if it is for our own benefit, we avoid it at all

costs. It is hard to go to the gym. It is hard to stop eating

Snickers, and it is really hard to be nice to the world, but in life

if things weren’t hard then every guy would have a ton of money,

every girl would fill out those tops, and everyone would look like a

model. But, life isn’t fair and to achieve these goals it takes

serious dedication that most people aren’t willing to have.

Someone once asked me what was wrong with my generation. I had no

idea. It is hard to name something that you are a part of, so

embedded in it, that you realize you are the stereotypical

protagonist of the problem. My generation -- the generation born of

the young phase of parents who insisted on calling us by stupid names

that came from books. Our mothers were all young and beautiful, and

our fathers affluent. We were a generation born to luxury, where home

computers and where easy access reigned. We are born without a cause.

We have no war, not yet, to fight, no great ambition, because most of

us have been handed our fate the moment we are conceived, we are born

unto this world as adults. Some are ignored by parents and given

nannies to watch over them. We realize that our parents are human,

stumbling along in this world just like everyone else, and we are no

better or no worse.

I had no idea what last year was supposed to hold for me, but as I

look back on it maybe these New Year’s resolutions are not chosen

with a hand filled with a champagne fluke of an air filled with fire,

but maybe life chooses our changes. In life there is no such thing as

a constant -- we all change every day. That is what makes it

interesting. It is never safe, quiet, or peaceful, or terrible or

scary, it is just unpredictable.

I realized we are just like the city of New York, we are

constantly buzzing, and when we are wounded the only thing we can do

is get back up and keep on fighting, and be better than ever. This

can be frightening and exhilarating depending on the position you are

in. We are molded and shaped into a new form of clay, but we are

always essentially clay. Maybe the resolutions that we should make

are to let life shape us, to be open to the possibility of tomorrow.

Not to make one night a year about resolution, but every day.

* MICHAEL A. WALEK is a Sage Hill School sophomore whose columns

will appear occasionally in the Forum section.