What are we thinking on Jan. 1, when we make resolutions to change our ways, only to  promptly go about failing to stay the course? For years now, I have promised on Dec. 31 to mark Jan. 1 as the start date of the daf yomi —resolutely reading a page of Talmud each day for the next seven years. Every year, I don’t follow through. Is this failure? Maybe not.

Look at it this way: When you sincerely observe the ritual of making a resolution that you won’t keep, you are merely declaring that it is possible for you to fulfill this resolution. Just because you end up not honoring the commitment doesn’t mean you failed to fulfill it. What you failed to do was to take advantage of the possibility that you would do as you had resolved.

Rationalization? No, it’s a solution. Next year, go right ahead and make the same resolution once again. It’s not a fool’s errand. If time is on your side, one fine Dec.31, you’ll wake up and recognize your ruse for the blatant procrastination that it is. Because, the fact is, you aren’t a failure at this resolution business. You honor many commitments every day. You meet your responsibilities to others all week long.  You keep multiple promises throughout the year.  It’s just that New Year’s resolutions are unlike all these obligations that keep us engaged in the real world.  The promises we make on Dec. 31 are our fondest hopes and wildest dreams that one day we will have the time to become the person we’d like to be. The last day of the year exists to make us stop putting off those hopes and dreams, and start becoming that wished-for person.

The point of making those crazy resolutions is to remind yourself that, one fine New Year’s Day, you will set out to do what needs to be done to transform the possible into the actual. With a little resolution, you’ll go all the way.

—Susan Rosenstreich