At least I’m not smoking. But then I never smoked. So I suppose that can’t be counted as a victory.
Since resolutions do often backfire and sabotage us, why do we still make them? Because we’re slaves to a tradition that started way back in 153 B.C. when the Romans placed their god Janus at the head of the calendar. Janus was two-faced (no, not like the smiling back-stabber you worked with ten years ago). Janus literally had two faces — one on the back of his head reviewing the old year and its disappointments, and the other on the front looking toward the incoming year with its potential for positive change.
I really must get serious about making some positive changes myself; and even though intellectually I know that New Year’s resolutions usually don’t work, I can’t be the only person on the planet who won’t make a few. So this coming year I resolve to re-read all of Shakespeare’s works — and not just the Cliff Notes this time; to practice the piano — and not just Chopsticks and Heart & Soul; to learn Italian — and not just the entrees on the Olive Garden menu.
Actually, I’m tempted to forget the self-improvement vows and make some resolutions that would be fun to keep. Like eat more chocolate … do less housework … spend more money … watch more frivolous TV shows … cut back on exercise … sleep ‘til noon … But if I did, I’m sure those resolutions would 'take'; and I’d hate myself by mid-January.
However, while researching resolutions around the world I did find one associated with my Sicilian ancestry that would be fun to keep and shouldn’t do too much damage: Eat lasagna on New Year’s Day to insure good fortune for the coming year. I much prefer that to the Austrian belief that good luck will flow to those who dine on suckling pig on New Year’s day — a practice that certainly isn’t very lucky for the pig. The lasagna idea is much more appealing. Since an entire roasted cow isn’t the centerpiece on the table, I don’t have to face the fact that the hamburger in the sauce was once an animal possibly named Elsie. Actually, there’s no need to sacrifice Elsie. I make a scrumptious meat-free marinara sauce.
This makes the Sicilian tradition even more appealing — so much so that I may even adopt the ancient Babylonian custom of celebrating New Year’s. Then I could enjoy lasagna for eleven days.
On second thought, an eleven-day New Year’s holiday would mean eleven New Year’s Eves to get through.
There isn’t enough lasagna in all of Italy to make that worthwhile.
©2020 Rose Madeline Mula for SeniorWomen.com
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