We’re only a few days into January and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been asked what my New Year’s Resolutions are.
The cashier at the supermarket this morning looked baffled when I said I don’t have any.
‘I’ve put on weight over Christmas,’ she blurted out, ‘And I’m going to join a gym.’
Why do we do it? Heap unnecessary pressure on top of our often frantic lives, only to face crushing disappointment when we can’t achieve the impossibly high standards we set ourselves.
I have goals, dreams, aspirations. Everybody should but I strive every day to be better than I was yesterday, to always be kind, compassionate, grateful and mindful, no matter what day or month it is. To be the best version of myself I can be; to pay it forward whenever I can, and love. You can never have enough love. And that’s the only resolution I need.