The (New Year's) Resolution Will Not Be Televised

Amidst the slew of "lock in for the new year" performative posts, and regurgitated lists of "things to do instead of doomscrolling" (though I prefer the term "scroll hole") I find myself starving for substance. Perhaps it is my fault that I'm setting such high expectations for general content online, but I digress. 

However, that doesn't change the fact that the internet is hyper saturated with shallow content about changing who you are in the month of January. Therein lies the problem; the inundation of the need for change. 

We are overly concerned with self development, over-therapized, and not concerned enough with what is already working. 

Which is unfortunate. So many wonderful and brilliant people are falling into the pit of I Must Change™ and end up sabotaging the very thing they think they are improving. Thus begins the cycle— unnecessary change leading to discontentment, leading to more change, leading to more discontentment, because why would you revert to the old habits you had before changing, because change is inherently good right? which leads to... ad nauseum.

It's good to have goals. It's good to check-in with yourself. It is not good to constantly change yourself, and it is not good to avoid negative emotions in the process. 

So, how do we respond? What do we do in the face of performative glow-ups and their empty promises for contentment and happiness? What do we do with the pressure?

For starters, let's recognize just that; a glow-up, especially when promoted by someone online, is an empty promise. Most of these influencers and content creators have all the time in the world to do the things they are listing in their videos. Their job is to sell you a lifestyle, to influence you, imagine that. Of course they're making change look glamorous, that happiness is one routine away, one glow-up away, one level-up away. If they can get you excited about getting your life together and making plans (which can be a form of procrastination, but that's an entirely different point), you are more likely to buy whatever it is they are selling. Whether it be a sponsored product or a digital planner that will actually fix you this year!! Because this time, it will work! Just like in the years prior! 

You know yourself better than that. The new planner will not get your life on track. Because that, my dear, is up to you.

Which leads to my second point, where we do some digging. 

Who told you that you need to change? Why does their opinion matter so much to you that you feel the need to give yourself a complete overhaul?

Perhaps there are things you want to change about yourself. But let's keep digging.

Are these changes about aesthetics and appearance? Routines? Do they require you spend a lot of money? Is the cost worth it? Or are these changes about your character? Your physical health?

I'm not going to say some changes are inherently better than others. Because for one person, spending a little more on a nice skincare routine could be a step toward taking better care of their hygiene as opposed to someone who is spending money they don't have on the same expensive skincare. Let's use our critical thinking here. Because that's the point.

What changes are important to you, and why? I urge you to really wrestle with those questions, and avoid taking advice from strangers on the internet. (Perhaps you can detect the irony.)

As you wrestle, you may find yourself feeling negative emotions. Which comes to my third point. 

If you do intend on making changes this year, nothing will change if you aren't willing to allow yourself to feel negative emotions. Not feeling negative emotions is not what self-improvement is about. 

I've noticed a common idea floating around online about therapy, and it is so far removed from what therapy actually does for a person. I'd like to clear the air— Therapy does not make the negative emotions go away, it does not "fix" you, nor does it take away whatever it is that you are processing. Therapy gives you the tools to handle emotions/trauma/relationships/life in general in a healthy way. Because every emotion has a purpose. Think of them as the "check engine" lights of your mental health. They are indicators, meant to reveal an underlying issue. Please treat them as such. *screams in DSM*

What if you crawled out of 2025 feeling exhausted and the idea of "reinventing" yourself is adding all of this pressure and you'd literally rather not. Well I have good news for you.

You can decide to change literally nothing at all! It's that simple! Because it's your life!

You like your routines? Keep them! Happy with the books on your shelf, even if they are collecting dust? Amazing! You don't have new goals but want to use ones from last year? Excellent! That's recycling!

Constantly changing yourself will leave you confused and discontented with your life. The idea that you need to change to be happy, to be your best self, is marketing. It's like tearing down a house over and over, and rebuilding a new foundation, over and over, while someone is yelling at you that you need to be buying their wall sconces and reusable paper towels. You won't know what you stand for, you won't know what you like as you emulate the trending posts online, and you won't stick with routines long enough to know what works, because not all routines are good for every season.

Look at the leafless trees in winter, then admire their blooms in the spring, and do it again the next year, and the year after that. Notice how much fuller the tree gets every year. Notice the tree doesn't hold its leaves all year. Notice its transitions with the seasons to accommodate for what they bring. Notice your capacity for patience growing along side the bark and branches.

Now that we've learned about making productive change (which can include not changing at all) the other hurdle that I rarely see addressed well, is how to make these things stick.

The idea that a new habit takes 21 days to form is fake news. Throw that entire idea away. That isn't how habits work. Fortunately, the way they work is simple. Unfortunately, they way they work is not easy. Because simple and easy are not the same.

Our brain is wonderfully adaptable. The more you do a thing, the more likely you will keep doing the thing. See? Simple. However, starting a new thing? Not easy.

To continue explaining this simply, the brain works in pathways. Every time you form a new habit, you are creating a new neural pathway.  Think about it as if the pathways are like hiking trails. The more you walk these hiking trails, the more packed the dirt is, the less overgrowth you get, and there is little resistance. However to start a new path, you have to walk through brambles and overgrowth, and it takes time for those things to clear. Over time, the new path becomes like the old one. Over time.

There is also the trap of planning. I say trap, because there is a point where it becomes a form of procrastination. It feels productive because you are thinking about the changes you want to make, however thinking about the changes, and actually doing them are two different things.

Want a habit that sticks? Keep doing it. Motivation comes after doing the thing, so never wait for it to start. The magic you're looking for is in the work you're avoiding. Consistency. Patience. All things we hate hearing. But there is no shortcut to lasting and meaningful change. Regardless of how long it will take, the time will pass anyway. 

The rush of reinvention and becoming the best and hottest version of yourself is presented as cute and trendy, and extremely desirable. However it insinuates that having a meaningful life only happens when you reinvent yourself. So let's make this abundantly clear.

Changing yourself in the month of January is not necessary for your life to be meaningful. 

This is your life. Change, or don't! It is completely up to you.

~I just want to be more organized and make stuff. Probably write some more. Or not. Who knows?

Perfectionism Is a Scam But Ghibli Stills Are Not

I've been thinking too hard about this whole blogging thing. 

The irony is that I'm working very hard at not being a perfectionist. As it turns out, being perfect at not being perfect defeats the purpose and the results are the same anyway; made out of frustration, anxiety, and probably an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 

*takes sip of coffee I made with three shots of espresso*

*no seriously this is me cutting down on caffeine*

*8 shots down to 5 a day,,,,,,,,,*

I nearly sprinted over here to write this after coming across a blog that had anywhere between 600-1001 posts a year, with high school-level graphic design text layouts, and some of the most profound writing I've read about film. I arrived at this blog because I was hunting for some decent stills of Ghibli films, specifically My Neighbor Totoro landscapes (iykyk), for drawing and color study. My son has been loving the Ghibli films, so lately I've been taking deep dives into film essays, art studies, and Japanese film making. Some of the best, and worst, takes I've seen on Ghibli films were from blog posts; normal people with the shared love of whimsy and childlike wonder. And this blog post was no different, except it struck me in a new way that I didn't expect, and honestly has very little to do with Ghibli. 

Upon first glance, it would seem that the author's strong suit is not in graphic design. If I stopped at this truly innocuous imperfection, I would have absolutely missed out on his thoughtful dissection of a household favorite Ghibli film. The funny thing (or perhaps profound or utterly normal thing) is, I didn't even notice the design faux pas until I started really looking over the author's blog as a whole. That's when I came over here to write — why am I stressing over the tiling of my background to the point of anxiety? Making sure my colors blended right in my header? Is this the right shade of blue? I spent too much time copy/pasting hex codes so my header didn't look out of place with the rest of my blog layout.

Granted, I'm an artist, legibility is important, and perfectionism is a beast. I've written about it frequently and I probably will never stop writing about it because of its chronic nature. I find great joy in designing an appealing, and readable, blog, however the problem lies in becoming afraid to write or post anything because perfectionism is holding me back. I can't fail if I don't try in the first place. But that begs the question; what is the standard anyway? (Spoiler: there is none.)

If someone can have high school level graphic design skills, but write between 600 and 1001 quality posts a year since 2007, I think I'll be okay. Not that my writing skills are better, or to compare artistic skill (though admittedly, as an artist it's difficult to not critique), but rather, I can write imperfect posts on my imperfect layouts about my imperfect thoughts and people will still read what I write. If they don't get it, they don't get it, but there is an audience for what I write. 

So, here I am, not thinking too hard about this blogging thing, sharing my favorite stills to study the landscapes and color grading of My Neighbor Totoro, because that's what's been occupying my brain lately. These will end up in my imperfect sketchbook, and will be imperfectly reproduced for me to imperfectly hang in my apartment, next to my other imperfect artwork for my imperfect enjoyment. 

*how many times can I say imperfect in one sentence?*

I will say though, these stills are anything but imperfect. I can't get enough of them. 

~ for those of you who didn't know, now you do. ^

all images are from My Neighbor Totoro, directed by Hayao Miyazaki, 1988

Resentment, Fermentation, and Three Important Questions

It’s winter. And for a lot of the U.S at the moment, it's a violently cold winter. Even Florida got snow. 

As much as I dislike my PNW apartment consistently sitting at 62 degrees indoors, I've lived enough seasons to appreciate the necessity of winter. Without a season of dormancy and quiet growth, we would not be prepared for the violence and rebirth in spring. So, in the spirit of abiding by the natural seasons, I challenged myself this January to not change anything about myself. At least, not yet. I've made the mistake of jumping right into my new year goals without taking inventory of my life first. Understanding what works, what doesn’t, and what I enjoy, better informs me of what changes need to be made in the first place. Otherwise, like in years past, I end up adapting the goals of others to my life, and quickly burn out. I don't want to waste time doing things that don't ultimately serve personal growth. 

I think the idea of new year resolutions has become so goal-focused that we lose sight of enjoying life. We make it about accomplishment instead of enjoying the journey, and there’s a lot of evidence that shows we don’t really know what “enjoying the journey” means.

Learning is exciting. Authentic growth doesn’t just “happen" because growth takes energy, and to have energy means you need to know what fuel is best for you. But it can’t stop there because fuel doesn’t do us any good if we don’t make time to fuel up. A car does not fuel up by simply parking at a gas station — it isn't a waste of time to fuel a car, so why does culture resent taking the time to rest? To resent taking breaks is to resent a part of our humanity. You cannot hate yourself into wholeness, even if you only hate a part of yourself. Being human is something you will be for the rest of your life. Even after death, once your flesh wastes away, the bones that remain are still human. Don’t waste your life resenting rest, and don’t waste time resenting the need for rest. To authentically grow is to not force something to fit into the season you’re currently in — the wise do not wear a thick sweater in the heat of summer. 

Look to the trees. Look up to the stars and into the heavens. Notice as the air grows cold and trees lose their leaves, there is quiet growth in the soil. And the beauty of winter is that, while natural warmth is scarce, it’s a time to create your own warmth. Wrap yourself in your favorite sweater as you pull a blanket over your lap, curling up with a loved one and a cup of tea, which seems to be just as much company as it is a delicious drink. 

I don’t count this as blind optimism, nor is this joy naïve. It’s naïve to think that rest is unproductive, to scorn the weather for not being warm, for the trees to be bare. Every season has a purpose. An eternal summer is to miss out on the rains of spring that bring summer fruit. It is to miss out on the dormancy of winter, where roots grow deeper and energy is stored to bring forth the blooms of spring. It is to miss out on the shedding of dead weight in autumn, in all its fiery glory, to prepare for winter’s storage. The low pressure timelessness of living inspired by the natural seasons makes for a life of clarity, patience, and nutrient dense fruit. 

Everyday since January first, I asked myself three questions, courtesy of Struthless’ video on journaling (go to 1:34 for the questions, but I highly recommend watching the whole thing.)

What drained me of energy?

What excited me?

What did I learn?

After looking over each journal entry, I found very obvious trends. The challenge for me was to patiently wait for the end of the month to start making drastic changes, per the boundaries I set up for this challenge. Without this boundary, I would have thrown myself headfirst into the rabbit hole of self-help and optimization, with journal prompts about longevity, no-waste swaps for my kitchen, and books on food preservation, theology, and sewing my own clothes. Not to say I didn’t completely follow this boundary I made for myself, just ask the second batch of sauerkraut I’m currently making and the new book I ordered about being an emotional healthy Christian. (I have ADHD and I'm unmedicated, leave me alone. 🫶)

It's important to note that I didn't just live in what drained me during this time of mental unpacking. While taking inventory, the challenge was to make no changes so I could accurately see what habits I have established, both good and bad. I have a consistent journaling habit in place already, which is where most of the draining things were placed and processed. Fortunately for me, much of it could be processed with my currently established habits. As for the other things that couldn't be processed this way, I admit that I didn't have a solid plan set up for this prior to the challenge. I did end up developing an unintentional list of habits I wanted to change or add after January is over, but the list was not formally planned, therefore I didn't have structure for it.

Which is likely why I purchased a book and have a kitchen counter peppered with jars of fermenting veggies. 🤠

But that's the nature of experimentation. I'm still very happy with the data I've collected, now having a better understanding of myself — including what I'm prone to do if I don't account for my rabbit-trail tendencies. Any data is good data.

As the first month of 2025 comes to a close, even with boundary-rebellion in the form of kitchen projects and a growing reference library, I look forward to the journey ahead. Embracing my bold side with more color and less fear, leaving my introverted bubble (aka my apartment lol), and finally learning to make a proper loaf of sourdough, after many comedically miserable attempts. 2025 will be a year of red lipstick and a well-used dutch oven — contentedness and unabashed self-expression. In leaps, or baby steps.

And I'm so excited to be writing again. ✨

~ learning to ferment veggies has been one of the best ADHD hacks of my entire life.

Proud Imperfectionist

Perfectionism is a straight up scam. A farse. Fake news. 

So I'm quitting it, cold turkey.

Well, as cold turkey as I can get because even now, I'm struggling to write this. Because it has to be perfect. The irony is real. 

I've given a lot of thought to the perfectionism issue because I'm just one of many victims that fall prey to it. It's insidious, with the shiniest of exteriors — what could go wrong with perfect, right? However "perfect" isn't the issue because, as it turns out, ✨we are the problem✨

The age old "human condition" strikes again, which is why we shouldn't aim to be perfect, but to be better than we were the day before as we all run our own race. In order to do that, we need to embrace imperfection. It's the only way we can ever hope to find the peace and freedom to become our very best selves. 

Perfectionism exists in many forms, one form of which is in season; the infamous new year's resolutions. It's not surprising to see people fall off the wagon within two weeks of January first because the expectation that the "new year new me" mindset is going to carry them through the year is not sustainable. 

A "fresh start" doesn't actually exist, so expecting it to help you become the best possible version of yourself is a trap. The path to self-improvement based on a "fresh start" promises immediate results and lasting change with little effort. I'm not against self-improvement, however. (If you're new here, read some of my older posts lol) I'm not even against new year's resolutions, it's great to have goals. But there has to be an understanding that we never actually get a fresh start because we all start from experience. A fresh start mindset doesn't take into account your bad habits or the version of yourself that you're trying to change; your gluttonous-holiday self, your last-January self, your toxic-traits self. It's all brought into your fresh start; those bad habits took time to form, and it will take time to break them. 

It's healthy to expect mistakes, but only when you give yourself the grace to learn from them — mistakes are not true failures, neither is a lack of motivation or not being able to meet your goals with your all, every day. Quite frankly, that's also very exhausting and not sustainable. The only way you truly fail is when you dwell on your mistakes and give up entirely. It's why the diet never lasts beyond Monday, why studying is still hard this semester, and why a gym membership isn't used beyond the first session.

Perfectionism is relative, therefore, it can be selfish and manipulative. This is simply realized when we ask random people on the street what their perfect afternoon would look like. Who is one person to tell another that "perfect" only exists as reading a book on the couch, when the other's "perfect" is spending time with their kids? The "perfect" pizza for a vegetarian would definitely be different than the person who regularly orders a meat lover's. Perfect is relative, therefore, it does not exist. 

This is why it s u c k s. We are digging our own graves, killing our motivation and creativity with an expectation we've set for ourselves based solely on preference. It's the perfect poison. (Pun is so intended.)

You could argue that it does exists but only in the relative sense and that there's a word for it, so I guess, yeah sure, it does. But doesn't that defeat the whole idea of perfect? Isn't it supposed to be, by definition, a universal standard?

Philosophy aside, perfectionism is a burden. There is no grace in it, no peace, and no room for growth. It's a breeding ground for pride and anxiety, driven by the unnecessary pressure and panic of "getting things right" all the time. We weren't designed for this panic. God did not make us from dust and bone for us to run around like headless chickens, worrying and trying to get things perfect, as if God hasn't already done all of the work for us. We are fallible, and will never live up to "perfect." Without imperfections, there is no need for grace. And with no need for grace, what did Jesus die for?

I don't expect that with this epiphany I've had, I'll have all of this mastered going into the new year — that would be duplicitous of me and deliciously ironic. But I do know that making the decision to let go, let God, and to refuse participating in "perfect" I already feel unburdened. So, I urge you dear reader, to unburden yourself, and find peace by embracing imperfection. Peace is a bond and it ties us together in humility because of our shared understanding of the inevitability of mistakes. You free yourself from weighty expectations, and assumed responsibility and control that you don't actually have when you tell perfection "no." Imperfections are what make life so much sweeter, more authentic, more gracious. That is why I am a proud imperfectionist.

~Special thanks to Oliver Burkeman's newsletter and this Christian R&B playlist I found on Spotify for inspiring this post✨