Just duck into this alleyway with me and I’ll transpose some of mine over to you.

Seriously, I have willpower to spare and wouldn’t mind if you took a bit of it. With the arrival of the fresh set of 365, I’m sure you have a few resolutions you’d like to start and stick with. So here, have some strength of mind and body and will. While we’re at this exchange, you could take some of my introspection as well. I’m sure you could use some of that too.

I’d be happy to part with some of this incessant need to examine my life at every turn. You, on the other hand – just by merely having stepped into this alleyway with me – you’ve shown yourself to be in dire need of self-analysis, and the aforementioned willpower, which would have given you the inner strength to immediately refuse my abnormal offer.

While we’re here in this seedy back alley, with the light from that apartment Christmas tree up there shining a bit of friendly brightness down on us, allow me to tell you about why I don’t much care for New Year’s Resolutions.

Of course, the story centres around the willpower and introspection that plagues me. On the up side, this willpower has long allowed me to say no to just about anything that’s not good for me. Meanwhile, the introspection has permitted me to constantly change my patterns of behaviour when I find myself doing or saying things that I’m not proud of. On the downside, I find it difficult to just let go and go with the flow of things, and to live even one day without the burden of reflection.

The problem – which is only a problem when I see it as one – means that when other people tell me about their New Year’s Resolutions, I find it tough to listen and empathize, even though I think of myself as a good listener and empathiser. I hear them say, for example, that they vow to eat and live healthier. Meanwhile, they’ve been living unhealthily for years or decades, as far as I can tell. It shows in their face, their skin, their posture, their musculature (or lack of it), and in their eyes – which, by the way, aren’t looking straight at me as they announce their new-found resolve. It’s as if they’ve already conceded that any success at new behaviour will be painfully short-lived.

I wonder why the burning desire to do things differently or better surfaces only once a year. A year is a long time and most of us have only about seventy to eighty of them. Shouldn’t each week and month be a little about changing for the better? And, if the need to change is so dire, why wait until a certain point on the calendar?

Okay, I hear what you’re saying, even though I probably shouldn’t put much stock into the words of someone that followed me into an alleyway. You agree with me that it’s important to make changes whenever change is necessary, like at work, when the boss tells you to change something and you have no choice. But we disagree on the notion that the New Year is as good a time as any to make personal changes. What if your health and well-being are at stake, and it’s April? Are you telling me that it’s reasonable to wait eight months to make the crucial adjustments? We’re not talking about a new baseball season, where each team starts off with an unblemished record. We all have blemishes and the major ones need to be corrected right away.

I see your hesitation to answer. I know it’s tough to make major modifications in life, and I wish you the best of success in making your own. Thanks for your time. (I turn around up to leave.) What’s that? You still want the willpower? Are you sure you can handle it? There’s a lot of responsibility involved, and you’ll feel a whole lot different the moment you leave this alley way. Maybe you should think about it. I’ll tell you what. I’ll meet you here in exactly one year and you can tell me if you still want it and what exactly you’re willing to give up to get it.

In the meantime, I truly wish you nothing but the best in this New Year. It’s a beautiful thing, this untainted 365.