Of New Year's resolutions and keeping a diary

Jim Withers

Jan. 1, 2025 – I began keeping a diary 50 years ago today.

It beats me how I’ve managed to stick with it all these years. As New Year’s resolutions go, mine normally peter out after about a week; they don’t last half a century.

Sometimes I imagine distilling it all into something someone might read. There are more than 8 billion stories on the naked planet, including mine, and I figure everyone has at least a few gems worth showing off.

But then I come to my senses and concede that turning my journal into a novel or memoir is one of those fanciful ideas that will never see the light of day. As the always-acerbic Fran Lebowitz said, “Your life story would not make a good book. Don’t even try.” Fact is, I rarely dip into this wordy log, and when I do it’s usually only to check something. That’s when I learn just how unreliable my memory is:

WHOA! THAT’s how it happened? REALLY?

You’d think that 50 years of recording thoughts and observations would give me some insight into whether or not our personalities are immutable. Are we essentially the same person for our entire lives (from birth to infirmity – and beyond)? Or do we, over the decades, imperceptibly morph into different people as we’re buffeted by whatever life throws at us? I’m not sure; the jury’s still out.

I launched my journal when I was 26½, and wish I’d started earlier. I envy my friend Michelle, who has been keeping hers since she was nine. What a treasure it must be to have traced the trajectory of your life from such an early stage.

As habits go, chronicling your life doesn’t cost much, there are no hangovers or extra calories involved, and it takes you away from TV and other ways of squandering your time, at least temporarily.

“We write,” Anaïs Nin said, “to taste life twice – in the moment and in retrospection.” The sweet, the sour, the bitter, the salty and the savoury, it’s all in your diary – the times you were proud of yourself and the times you weren’t, the times you should have spoken up and the times you should have shut up, the times you fretted over stuff that turned out to be of no consequence, not to mention all the cringe-worthy fiascos, bumps and bruises, heartbreaks and lucky breaks, blown opportunities, chance encounters, fiery exchanges, tearful hugs and hearty laughs with the people you love. The whole shebang.

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New Year’s Day is a contrivance. The year doesn’t necessarily begin on Jan. 1, especially if you follow the Chinese, Jewish or other calendars. But whichever one you choose, the first day of a new year, like your birthday, serves as a wake-up call, reminding you that you only get so many trips around the sun. It’s a fitting time – if you keep a diary or not – to turn the page, toast fond memories of departed friends and family members (for auld lang syne), shelve negativity and resolve to make the most of whatever lies ahead.