Now that Christmas has passed, most people turn their attention to celebrations of the New Year. I observe the holiday with a somewhat unorthodox tradition. I am just not into large parties or staying up late. Additionally, as an engineer who essentially works in risk management, I cannot suppress the idea that New Year’s Eve is a terrible night to be out when all the amateur drinkers take to the roads at approximately the same time. So many things can go horribly wrong. Consequently, I am happy to celebrate each new year quietly at home.
However, we still invest in what I regard as the most important New Year’s tradition of all: Reflecting on the previous year and setting intentions for the one to come. My celebration is modeled after one I came across in a magazine over 30 years ago. That article described a small group of close friends who traditionally gathered every New Year’s Eve to share a goals-centric celebration. As the midnight hour approached, everyone reflected on their goals for the previous year. At midnight, the conversation turned to setting new goals for the coming year. The author credited the group setting as providing accountability and continuity. I can no longer recall precisely where I first came across the article, but I am 95% sure it was a cooking magazine. Good ideas can be found in many places.
The magazine version of the gathering included some of the traditional trappings of New Year’s Eve. Food and alcohol in moderation were an explicit part of their practice. Additionally, goal setting in the form of “Resolutions” is a traditional aspect of ringing in each New Year. In addition to the mechanisms of continuity and accountability, what really sets their celebration apart is the deliberative intentionality. It marks the New Year with a sense of gravitas rather than excessive frivolity. That appeals to me.
We have adopted that tradition and tailored it to fit our own lifestyle. For one thing, participation only includes our immediate family. Additionally, we use a formal evening meal as the demarcation point between reflection on the previous year’s goals and discussion of our objectives for the New Year. If we tried to stay up past midnight for that important exercise, my quality of thought would be greatly diminished.
One of the benefits of keeping our celebration as a family-only affair is that we can get fairly detailed on our personal goals beyond what might ordinarily be shared with friends. Since the Trophy Husband started playing the sport, tennis-specific goals are typically a standard part of our individual roadmaps. In fact, this blog was born out of one such goal to “write a page a day about tennis” throughout 2020. I feel like I continue to hit that one out of the park.
I have found that structured reflection on goals that haven’t gone so well in the past is tremendously valuable. Sometimes, my failed goals were due to events outside my control. For example, in 2020, I committed to playing in the National Grass Court Cat 1 (now Level 1) tournament hosted by the West Side Tennis Club at Forest Hills, but that tournament was canceled due to the pandemic. The year I decided to bring back the kick serve from my junior playing days caused an immediate rotator cuff injury. That event provided a valuable lesson about honoring the physical constraints of my aging body that has informed subsequent objectives of that nature. Goals that aren’t achieved are frequently more illuminating than those that are.
Despite all the obvious trappings of tennis in our lives, goals related to the sport are only a small subset of what we lay out for ourselves. In fact, tennis is a subset under the heading of “Health and Fitness.” Our other major categories are Financial, Career, Self-Care, Family, and Household. That is what works for us and creates what feels like an appropriate balance. The categories and level of granularity can easily be tailored to suit your unique needs and preferences.
If you want a meaningful way to celebrate the New Year, I highly recommend using the holiday as an annual goal-setting exercise. That should include some mechanism that supports accountability and continuity. My own life would be rudderless without it.
