New Year's Resolution Method Works

January 2, 2015

I finally gave up on writing out my New Year's resolutions when I realized they weren't all that different from year to year: lose weight, exercise more, be nicer. I also knew it was time to give up when I learned our collective woeful track record for keeping resolutions: Of the 50 percent of us who make annual resolutions, 88 percent fail.

Next, I tried to write anti-resolutions: things I know that are bad for me that I'm going to keep doing because I like them and am not ready to give up, including chocolate, french fries, and Chardonnay. I can tell you that my anti-resolutions have been 100 percent successful, but I didn't feel any better for having made them.

But I did keep making resolutions for my family to follow — things I'd like to see them change that would make my life easier. Son: Pick up your clothes from the floor. Daughter: Remember I'm the mother. Husband: Keep your logo-wear to once per week. I can report to you that these resolutions have a 100 percent failure rate.

But ever the optimist, the beginning of a new year feels like a time for contemplation, renewal, and commitment. The date 1/1 just calls out for statements of change and an attempt at doing better than last year, even if just a little bit.

Six years ago, I met Ben Zander, the renowned conductor and the co-author of the book The Art of Possibility. He speaks around the world about music, creativity, and possibility. I was lucky enough to sit in the front row next to him as he was about to take the stage to speak to 2,000 CEOs from around the world about his philosophy of creativity and life.

In addition to his own creative life, Zander is a professor. At the end of each semester, invariably a student would come to him and question why he or she received a B in the class — as if getting an A was expected and deserved. Zander realized he could change the paradigm by making the students write at the beginning of the semester the specific behavior that would help them earn that elusive A at the end of the semester.

As a result, he saw a huge change in his students' behavior. They went from blaming, evading and not being fully present, to proceeding with energy, intention and personal responsibility for their own actions. The trick was writing the letter in the past tense as if it already happened. Not hoping for some elusive future goal that you might lose track of because it was all about stating the ends, but instead being specific about the means by which you got there.

I started writing my letter to myself six years ago. Unlike my lists of resolutions, it has transformed my work and my personal behavior. I use it with my clients and share the exercise with everyone I know. I'm often teased about still trying to "make the grade." But in the end, I believe it's the grade you give yourself for how you behave in the world that really counts.

So last week, instead of looking at the algorithm-created pictures of my year past on Facebook, I took out my letter from last year and read it to myself, and then I put it away and started writing out my letter for 2015. This year, I'm hoping to make the dean's list.

As first published in the Democrat + Chronicle and on the USA Today Network