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I mention this in case you've been taking a very long nap. It's a new year and as I take stock of the one that just passed I feel pretty good about it. Overall, I accomplished quite a bit. Except for all the things I said I was going to accomplish.
Of those I accomplished nothing.
On my birthday, just before the kickoff of 2014, I read an article about a woman who on her 31st birthday was lamenting several aspects of her life. She had just stepped outside, into a puddle, and was whining to herself when she looked up and saw a Baskin-Robbins ice cream shop. Somehow the ice cream parlor provided her with an epiphany about her own life and how it needed variety, much like the variety of available ice-cream flavors. I'm pretty sure she explained it more eloquently than this but anyhow, even though Baskin-Robbins had dropped the 31 flavors from their name some time ago, she must have been old enough to remember it, and all the whining, puddle-stepping, birthday reflecting, and ice cream flavors fit together into an idea about how to change her life. She decided to ask her friends and family for suggestions of 31 new things she could do in the coming year to broaden her life experience and perspective. I admired her sense of adventure.
I liked the idea so much I decided to write a blog post asking for similar input. Except I wasn't turning 31. I was turning 55. I also wasn't lamenting my life nor had I stepped into a puddle but I guess I just got so caught up in the idea of doing new things that I didn't think the idea through very carefully. I planned to compose a list of 55 of my favorite suggestions. Had I taken the time to consider this I would have realized that doing 55 new things would mean accomplishing more than one per week. This was highly unlikely.
As it was I didn't get 55 ideas. I got 11. And two alternates which I wasn't sure I could commit to. Even so, undertaking 11 new challenges seemed a respectable list and I appreciated the input of those who had chosen to participate.
And that's as far as it went. Not only did I not accomplish 55 new things, I didn't even accomplish 11.
I didn't even accomplish one.
There are a myriad reasons why I didn't complete my list of eleven new adventures. Probably the most important is that I didn't create a plan for how to accomplish them. The idea was a little hair-brained from the beginning. Without a plan it was pretty much doomed.
I could chastise myself for never even starting. I could call myself a failure or feel bad that I didn't follow through. I could try to hide the fact that I made a public plea for input and then never did a thing with the ideas people provided.
I could. But I won't.
Because whether the idea was a good one or not really doesn't matter. And whether I completed some, all, or none of my list really doesn't matter. I am not defined by what I accomplish. No one is defined by what they accomplished. Not really. There are a lot of people out there accomplishing a lot of great things, but in the end we aren't defined by what we accomplish.
We are defined by how we treat others.
We are defined by our offerings of joy and hope.
We are defined by our demonstrations of charity.
We are defined by the way we are good citizens of the world.
I'll hold on to my list. There are some really good ideas on it and some day I might be lamenting my life and step into a puddle and decide to accomplish them all. Or maybe I'll never accomplish any. It doesn't matter because I'm not defined by my accomplishments.
I am defined by love.
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