“Getting Ahead” was going to be the title of my December post, in which I was going to reflect on my 2025 resolutions and foreshadow my 2026 ones (and it wouldn’t be cliché, because I’d be ahead), and ultimately conclude that resolutions are for getting ahead, and I was ahead on getting ahead. Of course, the sketch of the draft ended with me thinking about repentance and grace and the reality of resolutions failing. (But come on, does that really matter? I was ahead!)
Spoiler alert: “Getting Ahead” was not published in December because I was unable to stay ahead, or even on top of, my life and responsibilities. So, this “Getting Ahead” will still be that “Getting Ahead,” except different, because it is January 22, Emily just wrote a piece about resolutions, and I am decidedly behind.
Ahead and behind—this language reinforces unidirectional (and somewhat falsely uniform) linearity, and collapses the recursive nature of development. Ahead or behind in relation to what? Why is this “what” the measuring stick? And yet, it’s enticing.
My 2025 goal was to spend 500 hours outside. The rules: Any intentional, semi-prolonged time spent outside man-made walls or roofs counted. Walking from the house to the car did not count. Hours sleeping in a tent were halved. (I was sleeping, and also, inside a tent. But the tent is like, ALMOST outside and slightly uncomfortable, so, half-credit.)
I did not meet this goal. To do so, I would have had to average about 1.5 hours a day! I stayed on the wagon of intention and record-keeping until April (91 hours!), but I fell off halfway through that month. It was still a productive experience, however, and I’m grateful I established that goal, even if I didn’t accomplish it. The fruits of my initial discipline persisted through the rest of the year: I walked more than I ever did in 2024, and I now prioritize time outside.
My 2025 resolution was to eat more fun pasta. The rule: anytime I saw an unfamiliar pasta shape, I had to buy and eat it.
This resolution provoked whimsy and attention—I look carefully, now, at the pasta aisle. My scrupulous frugality, which prevented me from splurging on the slightly more expensive and exponentially more joy-inducing pasta, was forestalled! I am a little less uptight because of this resolution, and I will be carrying it into 2026.
In 2026, I have three goals and four resolutions, which I’m writing here for accountability purposes. I realize the volume might be concerning, but dream big, you know?
2026 Goals:
- Hike Big and Little Chick Hill once a month for the whole year
- Get jacked (specifically: squat 225, bench 120, do 20 push-ups in a row, deadlift 225, run an 8-minute mile)
- Read Psalms and Proverbs three times each
2026 Resolutions:
- Create and fill a daily one good thing jar
- Spend at least 10 minutes (sans technological distraction) outside every day
- Be cozier (light a candle every evening, put decorations on my walls, wear soft socks and warm sweaters, etc.)
- More frequently listen to music while in the shower
I’ve divided them in this way because, as I was thinking about this particular version of “Getting Ahead” I began to articulate the fuzzy (but significant to me) difference between goals and resolutions. To me, a goal is end-oriented, and not accomplishing a goal in a desired timeframe is normal, accepted, not a character flaw. Loftiness pushes me toward excellence, and the specific/objective measurability of goals is both what makes them useful and challenging. If I’m diligent, the patterns of behavior that lead to accomplishing that goal do the work of resolutions, but I’m focused particularly on tangible outcomes.
A resolution, however, is an ongoing, long-term commitment leading to lasting mental, emotional, and behavioral change. This year’s resolutions are tools I hope will help me develop into a person who is less anxiously frenetic and more contently present. Development is recursive and occurs against obstacles; linearity is overrated. So, I will “fail” at these resolutions, some days. Only in accepting that reality, and redefining what it means to succeed, do they become useful.
I mourn the hustle and achievement culture (despite its lure) that so often associates new year resolutions with emotions such as shame, guilt, etc. I have a complex relationship with achievement, “shoulds,” and ahead-ness/behind-ness.
And also, I believe that constructed rhythms of time and natural rhythms of seasons provide unique opportunities to attend to my habits, that I might compassionately and thoughtfully turn toward the kind of person I want to be, toward the kind of life I hope to live, God helping me.
Savannah Shustack graduated from Calvin in 2024 with a major in literature and plans to have the job of “books” one day. Rather like Ken, she is still figuring life out; the job “books” provides plenty of wiggle room, though she’s currently leaning toward being a librarian. Savannah is a New England native who enjoys watching hockey (Go Bruins!) and playing board games—especially ones she can win.
