I resolve to make this my last resolution. I resolve to not take up anything I will later want to put down and resolve to continue with whatever is currently going on. This I resolve to do for this is my final year. Yes, I resolve this will be my last resolution.
Last year's resolutions were a sham. I resolved, perhaps for the 45th time, to give up smoking. But smoking is something I really enjoy – the play of the lighter, the opening of a new packet, the feel of one smoking away in your fingers. The whole tobacco thing had me hooked at 15, or was it 13, and I don't intend to stop what is a very peaceful and calming activity. I harm none by it (a considerate smoker) and can go for nearly a day without lighting up – well, almost. But December last year, the insurance on the car went up again. I calculated that at 40 pence or so per cigarette and an average of 20 each day I would save about £3000 each year – way over the price of the hiked-up insurance which, as an added bonus, would then be reduced. Then I thought of the pleasure of smog-free lungs and of vigorous exercise, hiking across the downs courtesy of my nice, smokeless car. And as I thought about it I found myself lighting up to enjoy that very thought and I knew I was a gonner. I knew I'd have to continue paying for my pleasures. January 1st was, therefore, not a day locked in a titanic struggle against the demon weed, but was instead a nice relaxing sunny day spent at home recovering from a great night out with the additional help of nicotine. After all, hangovers would be perhaps the worst occasions to quit smoking.
The other resolutions were equally ineffective – yoga, reading more, taking up painting and trying to leave work earlier. Actually, the last one was a bit of a surprise, but obviously not in the way I had anticiated. Who could have forseen the following twelve months? I suppose leaving work would have enabled me to take up the yoga and to read all those unfinished books and to start painting again, but it's a strange thing that with all the time available none of those have happened.
My last year. Wouldn't have believed it on January 1st, that's for sure. The Grünfelder project was only just in its infancy and there were so many things to complete from the previous scheme. So when I entered Mike's office on March 22nd with the news that I was scaling back my input, he was dumbfounded. We both were. I'd never seen him cry before. Silly old duffer. Got me going too.
In a way, I expected it to go on forever. Maybe we all do. Not that I had any delusions of immortality, but I really didn't expect it quite so soon. Death is so drearily emphatic. There is a full-stop to the book; a last page without a joyous and miraculous post-script. I suppose I hadn't given it any more thought than pension payments.
That's another funny thing. Now I have a pension in full, and life insurance and mortgage paid up, I would really rather have the drudgery of payments and a question mark over retirement age than have all of that money and be so near the end.
So, Mike has allowed me to continue adding drawings and attend meetings. Quite frankly, I haven't noticed much of a difference as far as my capacity is concerned, but the sideways glances and the sympathetic handshakes have added an emotional strain. I could do have done without it. By emphasising my condition they have unecessarily distracted themselves from tasks at hand. I really can't stand it. One day after loosing my hair I came back into the studio, to which Shirley gave out a particularly heavy sigh. I'm afraid I lost my temper. It made me shout, "On-on!" rather defiantly. I definitely couldn't stand another 12 months of that.
My resolution for this upcoming year, then, is to enjoy what is left and do no more. I will not add or subtract, deviate or dally. I want to go right through to the end without any tacky and desperate grasps at straws. I am neither going to take up saintliness and moderation or self-pity and anger. אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה – I am who I am, and in that I am resolute!
Comments