Why I’ve Already Quit My New Year’s Resolution

New Year’s resolutions? What was I thinking?

It’s January 2nd, and I’ve already given up on my New Year’s resolutions.

Okay, not really. But isn’t that the feeling we’re all afraid of?

That moment when we realize it’s just the second day of the year and we’re already slipping?

Yesterday, I shared some sobering statistics about resolutions: according to a Forbes Health poll, less than 10% of people actually achieve their New Year’s resolutions.

And most don’t last beyond four months. That means the odds are stacked against us before we even begin. So, if resolutions don’t work for most people, maybe the problem isn’t us.

Maybe the problem is the way we think about resolutions in the first place.

As I mentioned yesterday, Oliver Burkeman’s Meditations for Mortals suggests that our culture often treats meaningful actions as battles against our own laziness.

This mindset turns life into an exhausting internal struggle—and resolutions into yet another chore.

Today, I want to take that idea a step further and talk about an alternative approach. One that’s less about discipline and more about simply “putting the ball in play.”

“Just put the ball in play.”

Swing the Bat, Even If You Miss

My goal for 2025 isn’t to be perfect or to set a resolution so airtight that it could win awards for SMART goal compliance. My goal is to put the ball in play. Here’s what I mean.

Imagine you’re at bat in a baseball game. Your first instinct might be to aim for the perfect hit—a home run that clears the bases and sends the crowd into a frenzy.

But what if, instead, your only goal was to make contact with the ball? To swing the bat and see where it goes?

For me, this means resisting the urge to set the kind of New Year’s resolution everyone tells me I should have.

You know the type: it’s SMART (specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound). It’s meticulously planned. It’s impressive on paper. And it’s also intimidating as hell.

The Google Rabbit Hole of SMART Goals

Let me be honest: my first instinct was to make a SMART goal. So I Googled “how to set a SMART goal,” and within five minutes, I was overwhelmed. There are templates and worksheets and quizzes. There are endless examples of other people’s SMART goals, each one more polished than the last.

And before long, I’m not even thinking about my own goal anymore. I’m stuck comparing myself to strangers on the internet.

It’s paralyzing. Instead of taking action, I’m just standing at the plate, bat in hand, watching pitch after pitch go by.

What If January Is Just About Gathering Information?

So here’s my new approach: instead of trying to nail down the perfect goal on January 1st, what if my goal for January is simply to gather more information? To spend the month learning about the thing I’m interested in, without the pressure to achieve a specific outcome?

By doing this, I’m giving myself permission to swing the bat without worrying about hitting a home run.

I’m staying in the game, but I’m not setting myself up for failure by choosing a wildly uninformed goal that I’ll give up on in 15 days.

The Beauty of a 30-Day Experiment

Here’s the plan: for the next 30 days, I’ll explore the topic I’m curious about. Maybe I’ll read a book, listen to a podcast, or talk to someone who knows more than I do. At the end of the month, I’ll revisit the idea of setting a more specific goal.

By then, I’ll know more about what I’m getting into—and I’ll be better equipped to set myself up for success.

The beauty of this approach is that it removes the pressure to be perfect right out of the gate. It allows me to start small, stay curious, and stay engaged.

Resolutions Don’t Have to Be All-or-Nothing

Let’s circle back to Carolyn Hax’s delightful observation about applying your “ass” wisely: “Being able to achieve maximum economy of ass is an important adult skill.”

Maybe we need to stop whole-assing our resolutions. Maybe the secret to sticking with a goal isn’t discipline, but economy. Instead of trying to go all-in on January 1st, let’s give ourselves permission to ease in, test the waters, and adjust as we go.

After all, the goal isn’t to burn out by February. The goal is to keep swinging the bat, one pitch at a time.

So here’s to a new kind of resolution: one that’s less about discipline and more about curiosity. Less about perfection and more about progress.

Let’s see where the ball goes.