Small things all the time, man.
Today, while doing some sketching for a big illustration project, I overheard two friends (strangers to me) at a coffee shop discussing, in-depth, what their new years resolutions are going to be this year. Each of them weighed the pros and cons of various things like attending more yoga classes or finally quitting that terrible job they’ve been stuck in for years. I zoned out for a little while and worked my way through some pencil sketches, graphite and eraser shavings flying out of my notebook, presumably. When I lifted my head again, probably 20 minutes later, I was surprised to overhear that they were still debating the resolution dilemma and it had become much more hotly contested as if they were up against a tight deadline or something.
I’ve never really been one for setting goals. That is, sitting down with pen and paper (or more likely evernote) and listing out things I’d like to achieve or a rung on the hypothetical ladder I’d like to like to reach. I’ve always sort of believed in perpetual growth (is that a thing?) and doing small things all the time in the name of self-growth. I’m not talking about painful things like practicing public speaking or dancing in public (mad props to this rad human though), but more like joining an intramural soccer league, carving out some time every day to read a chapter, or pushing through that last struggle-rep during your heavy squat sesh.
In saying this, I’m certainly not insinuating that I’m a superior human than any of you, because that could not be farther from the truth. But rather, that everybody grows differently and the right answer isn’t necessarily setting another new years resolution that you abandon come February. By the way, coffee shop strangers, you should totally do more yoga AND quit that job you hate. Life’s too good to only choose one.