Our lives and our choices, like quantum trajectories, are understood moment to moment.  At each point of intersection, each encounter suggests a new potential direction.

On New Year's Eve I watched an interesting movie with some of my close friends.  Cloud Atlas.  I liked it.  It revolves around the idea that every life is significant and carries with it profound effects on the lives of others.  Perfect for the self-improvement vibe that surrounds the beginning of each January.  (I will warn you though, it's complicated and crazy so take that into account if you decide to watch it).  This time every year we sit ourselves down and have a real look at our lives.  We see holes and want to fill them in.  So we write down our goals and we give a shot at them.  We fail at a lot of them which leads some people to reject the whole notion of making resolutions in the first place.  The disappointment of it all just seems too much for them.  But I think they're missing something.

Truth is singular.  Its versions are mistruths.

If there is no direction in life, you won't get anywhere worth going.  Sure I've made plenty of resolutions that have ultimately failed.  Quite a few of the ones I made this year, I've made before.  But that doesn't stop me from being excited about them.  Since the end of my swimming career, I've always wanted to get back to being as athletic as I was then.  Since my mission, I've always wanted to get back to being as spiritual as I was during those two years.  Are they realistic goals?  Not entirely.  I probably will never have nine practices written for me every week that come complete with a devoted coach and great teammates to push me on again in my life.  And until I'm old, married, and retired, I'm going to have to wait patiently for the opportunity to devote every waking moment of my life to the Lord again.  Those were chapters of my life that have closed.  But DAMN, they were well written.  And they give me something to aspire to.  I know I'm not going to reach those peaks again.  They're behind me.  But they inspire my efforts to move forward.  They let me know what to look for as I move on and give me hope regardless of how many times I fall short of the high marks I set for myself then.  I love this time of year.  I wish this zeal for self-improvement lasted all year long.  I feel like I can accomplish anything.  So I set out with a bunch of goals, and you know what?  I actually accomplish some of them.  New habits develop and new passions are discovered.  Can you imagine what we could get done if we felt like this always?

No matter what you do, it will never amount to anything more than a single drop in a limitless ocean. 

But of course there are plenty of times (usually later in the year) when it seems I'm never going to be able to do it.  We all fall down.  But wallowing in inadequacy never got anything done.  Viewing life as a series of obstacles and set backs just teaches us to sit back down and get comfortable with the old version of ourselves - which inevitably turns into a newer upgraded version of the old self we didn't like to begin with. Throughout the year, the zeal dies down.  But the hope doesn't.  We set those same resolutions year after year because it is something that we want.  I think this is where honest introspection without the clouding lens of societal norms plays its biggest role.  We go after what we really want.  Obviously that fluctuates from time to time

What is an ocean but a multitude of drops? 

I want to improve in my life.  I want to go places.  I want to be a great veterinarian who makes a difference in the world of zoology and conservation.  I've wanted that for a long time.  That desire got me into veterinary school. And now my professional goals have simply evolved into new ones.  But I also want that spiritual athlete back.  And a family.  The past year gave me a lot of glimpses into how that can happen and how the opposite of that can happen. Sometimes a good slap in the face with reality can give that to you.  Life is funny like that.  Sometimes it knocks the wind out of you and in your oxygen deprived state you can only see what hit you.  But afterwards, when your figurative diaphragm recovers from its sudden spasm attack you see things clearly. From there you either get to sit down or get back in the game.

Our lives are not our own.  From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present.  And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.

But here's the great thing.  We are never in it alone.  Every person we meet along this journey of life is a teammate. Everything we do is a group effort.  As we move forward in this new year aiming for new selves, let's remember that we are also forging new relationships because we are changing (or on our way to changing) into new people.  You wanna change the world?  It all starts with you!