I’m really doomed on this front. I was born under the sign of Cancer, and wishywashy might be my middle name. If I ever seem strong and determined and disciplined, it’s only because I’ve struggled most of my life against my natural tendencies to see both sides to the exclusion of making up my mind, and to react with emotion instead of brain and then to lose sight completely of reason because of how I’m feeling about it all. Rather like Pooh, that bear of little brain. I digress. Or maybe I don’t. See…it’s happening even as I type. Wish. Wash.

When last I uttered the word “resolution” in this blog, I was undecided as to whether I would have any or not. And I can now say with certainty, I think, that my lack of decision is unchanged. I might. And I might not. Jonathan Cainer, a horoscopist whom I rather enjoy though I am undecided as to whether I should put any stock in such things or not (ask me how many times I read Love Signs in college with my friends, in an attempt to decipher the “signs” of love that were, I felt, all around me), had this to say about my January, and I rather liked it, as it is so unlike the way I tend to think:

Your greatest hope is that you won’t spend 2013 repeating the mistakes of 2012. You would like to feel that as you learn from past errors, you can start to enjoy life more. But are you sure that you know what you have done wrong? Perhaps some of the things that you feel most keen to correct, have more merit and meaning than you realise. This January, be open to the idea that you don’t have quite as many problems as you thought and that your year may yet bring the story of a surprisingly smooth journey to success.

I like that. I’m most often driven ad nauseum (my family will testify) by that all-American notion that I can do better. That I can improve. That action is probably required. Which is great (in doses), except that it works contrary to that other great all-American idea of living in the moment. I ask you: how the hell can a person feel relaxed and happy if he or she is consumed with idea that he or she must improve and pronto? Add to that the fact that the human brain, left to its own devices, has the dreadful tendency to think the same thoughts over and over again, and you have a recipe not for improvement but for depression.

I suppose the secret lies in writing resolutions for yourself that are reasonable, attainable, and for which at some point in the not so far future, you can say to yourself, “Well done!” and have a glass of wine in celebration. (Very similar to child-rearing, minus the wine part.) Or maybe, the success of resolutions depends on the character and nature of the person making them. And if I am to be true to my Cancerian self, it is fitting and correct that my resolutions take a bit of time finding their way. They will express themselves in terms of feelings and notions and water-colory impressions instead of hard, clean bullet-pointed items.

Rather like the lights in these pictures, they will glow and attract me, even though I can’t quite put my finger on what they are. And I’ll feel my way forward, blindly except for the intuition that in this direction a light is shining…as I’ve done for so much of my life. And I will, for once, let that be OK. Self-acceptance would be a great achievement. Maybe it will play out like that. Or maybe not. I’ll let you know.

Meanwhile…tell me about you…