I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions; they smack too much of something needing to be put right. Resolutions imply that I’m not measuring up in some way or another, and by simply improving myself in certain concrete ways I’ll be fixed. But over the years I’ve been working on accepting myself as whole and complete just as I am. It doesn’t mean that I think I’m perfect. But it does mean I’m trying to accept myself, imperfections and all. So resolutions feel a bit, well, counterproductive to all that self-acceptance work. That said, it’s not just a new year. It’s a new decade. Even I have to admit that there’s something profound about that zero at the end of the year. The blank-slateyness is just too obvious to ignore.

So, what’s an anti-resolution gal to do when faced with the freshness of a new decade? I can’t speak for all such gals, but this one has chosen to identify practices to focus on in the twenties. Practices feel more useful and holistic to me than setting random goals that may not even matter to me in six months. Practice implies a work in progress, and I’m nothing if not in progress. But this is about more than just me. We’re all works in progress. And so, this may seem presumptuous, but my hope is that you’ll commit to the following practices along with me:

Practice being bored. Oh, how we avoid boredom! Give us a checkout line one deep, stick us in a waiting room, put us on hold with customer service, even stop us at a red light, and we’re swiping and clicking and liking and texting. But we’re missing golden opportunities each time we avoid those periods of nothingness. It’s in those moments, be they minutes or hours, that creative sparks turn to flames and Big Ideas are birthed. So let’s breathe into the initial discomfort and allow ourselves to be bored. Who knows what we might discover or what wonders we may create?

Practice doing scary things. Fear can save our lives, it’s true. Without a healthy dose of fear our species wouldn’t be where it is. But misplaced fear can hold us back, and so very much of our modern-day fear is misplaced. It’s not that we focus on all the problems that could arise and what-if things to death, it’s that we what-if things to never being born in the first place. So, do the thing you’ve been dreaming of, even if it’s scary. Especially if it’s scary. Speak truth to power. Stand up for the powerless. Drop down to part-time at your day job to focus on your writing <quiet cough>. Start the blog <ahem>. Register for the race. Let’s move towards that which scares us.

Practice listening to the Gut. Call it the Inner Voice. Call it the Heart. Call it Intuition. We can call it whatever we want but we need to tune in (turn inward, really) and pay attention. The deep inner knowing is old, old wisdom rising up. There are times to consult Google and friends and logic, and then there are times when we have to do a deeper consult with that ancient voice. If you’re considering taking an action that falls under the category of “scary thing”, and your Inner Voice is screaming at you to go home and lock the doors, you’re probably wisest to listen to that inner advice. If you’ve found yourself disconnected from that wisdom (such disconnection is all too common in modern culture), it can be easy to confuse “head thoughts” with “gut knowing”. It’s there, though. Those moments when you say to yourself “I knew I should’ve…”, or “It didn’t feel right…” are times when that inner voice is speaking. We just need to listen.

Practice failing. When we commit to a practice of doing scary things, we also commit to a practice of failing. Failure is really just learning what doesn’t work. So we try something, and it doesn’t work. So we tweak our approach and try again, and maybe we nail it or maybe we just discover something else that doesn’t work. When we’re failing we’re learning. Success requires failure. Not that we don’t occasionally hope to land it on the first try, and odds are that every so often we’ll get a winner right off the start. But more often than not we’ll get a few scraped knees and elbows when we first venture out without the training wheels. Eventually, though, we find our balance point. So rather than avoiding failure, let’s embrace our failures for the gifts that they are.

Practice radical compassion. This one is simple but it’s not at all easy: extend compassion to everyone. Everyone. The racist uncle. The aggressive driver. The President. The mass shooter. To show compassion to a person does not mean to condone their actions. It does not mean to agree with their world-view. Merriam-Webster defines compassion as “sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it”. Reserving compassion for only those with whom we agree politically is not what the world needs. Responding to malice with malice brings us no closer to understanding our differences or identifying the potential for future violence. Radical compassion costs us nothing, but it is not easy. But just imagine what the world could be if we all committed to such a practice?

So, that’s what I plan to work on for the next ten years. In truth, I’ll probably be practicing these things for as many more decades as I’m alive. I certainly don’t expect to master any of them. And that’s okay. It’s not a competition (despite what social media may have us believe). There isn’t a finish line. Well, there is, but when we cross that ultimate finish line we won’t get a medal or photos to humble-brag post.

I’ll close with some wishes for you and all of us in this coming year and decade. I hope the year is filled with moments that get your stomach all a-flutter with nerves and excitement and a bit of healthy fear, and I hope those thrilling times are interspersed with plenty of potential-rich boredom. I hope you have glorious failures that lead to well-earned success. May you be guided by your own inner wisdom, and may you walk the path of radical compassion.

Happy New Year.