Here’s to new beginnings, sort of

No one’s saying you were tipsy on New Year’s Eve. No one’s saying you made a fool of yourself. But those New Year’s resolutions you proclaimed, which resonated so powerfully from your lungs and soared like eagles toward the other side of midnight (I will quit smoking, I will lose weight, I will read more articles about PCBs in Pittsfield and fewer articles about Jennifer Anniston) — well, there they are now, come home to roost, plump and pesky pigeons at your feet.

Shoo, you say.

Welcome to the sound of the other shoo falling.

If you were an ancient Roman — a civilization we can safely blame for infusing guilt into the even more ancient annual urge of self-reform — it wouldn’t be a matter of a wing and a prayer. You’d make your resolutions and stick to them, or otherwise face the two faces of Janus, god of new beginnings. And once you get a lower-case god involved in your affairs, they’re on you like melted cheese. Better you run for your life (on a treadmill, maybe).

But nowadays, with God rightfully uppercase and not, shall we say, in the niche market when it comes to New Year’s resolutions, all those anti-vice vows you blabbed about, all those interminable good intentions, new projects, new-you-in-the-New-Year yadda yadda (“I will build that dang bookshelf myself,” you said ... remember?) will likely forestall at the starting gate. Maybe it happened two weeks ago. Maybe today. Maybe in a matter of a month.

And with little or no repercussions.

But you’re among crowded company. Of those who make serious attempts at
personal change, 30 percent will give up within two weeks, and more than half won’t make it past six months, according to the Journal of Clinical Psychology.

And while the ritual of making New Year’s resolutions dates back 4,000 years to the Babylonians, the ritual of breaking resolutions — New Year’s or otherwise — probably dates back to the first creature who realized he had legs and stepped out of the primordial ooze promising to be back in a jiff.

There are terms used to describe the phenomenon of wanting to change for the
better yet stymieing such change at the same time. Shakespeare would call it “tragedy.”

Sigmund Freud, who tugged the ropes and pullies of consciousness to show how humans are saboteurs of their own selves, would call it “only natural.”

Indeed, while you say you want a resolution, living up to it may require nothing short of a battle of the divided self. (Janus may have had two heads, but who’s laughing now?)

So, there you are. Right now. The first month of the new year. The first day of the rest of your life. You’re feeling like a tragic hero, naturally. You’re all resolution but no resoluteness. You’re plenty game but with no game plan. All swash but no buckle.

What do you do?

Forthwith, some suggestions:

Hire a lawyer. Yes, really. You could draw up a legally binding contract to ensure you stick to your resolutions. It’s possible. Here’s how it could work: Say your resolution is to volunteer more with one or more of the county’s many non-profits, or say you want to quit smoking. You and someone who cares about you could sign a contract saying as much, and the contract could include a third-party beneficiary in the event you fail to adhere to your resolution.

One major drawback is that it would upend your New Year’s resolution to have fewer lawyers in your life.

How about this one: You can log on to myGoals.com, which charges users a monthly fee of $5.95 a month or $49.95 a year to be beleaguered with e-mail pushing you to stay on track. The website allows you to write your own resolutions or choose from hundreds of ready-made ones, including “improve my vocabulary,” “dive the Great Barrier Reef,” “retire comfortably at 45,” “eat more vegetables,” “read the classics,” “benchpress 225 pounds,” and “climb Kilimanjaro.” (I think there’s even one about “cooking more with marmalades.”)

One major drawback is if you are as equally enraged by e-mail spam as you are by your inability to follow through on New Year’s resolutions.

OK, here’s one more. Joan Lang, chair of the Department of Psychiatry at Saint Louis University School of Medicine, touts the best time to make a resolution is not at New Year’s, when we’re still preoccupied with the holiday season, but maybe mid-year.

Ah … that’s much better. Mid-year.

So relax. Really. You’re pushing yourself way too hard. See you in June, OK?

Hello?