EFFECTIVE TRUNCATION HEURISTICS






 I wonder if we make resolutions in order to experience a feeling of total failure?

Like schadenfreude, do we get a perverse sense of masochistic pleasure when we let our own selves down?

After the 'unprecedented' uncertainty of the past couple of years, I thought it wise NOT to make any steadfast promises to myself this year.
What will be will be, it is what it is, we're all human, and Bob was my uncle (until he died of Covid early last year).

So I told myself that I would make changes to my behaviour, rather than wholesale deprivation, or unrealistic goals.

I would be more forgiving this year.
I would accept others' fallibilities.
I would empathise where possible, and at worst, try to see things from someone else's perspective.
I would channel any anger I felt into something more positive.
I would breathe deeper, slower and for longer.
I would accept my fate.

By 1.30pm on January 1st I had failed on all but one of the above.
I am still breathing.
Although it is shallow, erratic and laden with sighs.

My favourite day of the year is usually tomorrow.
Is 2.30pm too early a time to go to bed?

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