It's a bit late, but...

My New Year’s resolutions have been dying to come out. Oh, I haven’t formulated it or anything. To be honest, this is the first day I’m even laying out what I want to accomplish this year. 2012, you’re finally here. My Golden Year.

            I’ve told this to people before. Last year, I went on a school trip to Dharamsala, India, and it was there that one of the most amazing things happened.

            I visited a Palm Reader.

            And I had my future read to me.

            Not that I believe what he told me, because who but God knows what the future will bring? However, that’s not the point. The point is, he told me something that has been forever imprinted in my head: “the year two thousand and twelve will be your golden year.”

            My Golden Year? Yes. My Golden Year.

            And maybe only I can make that prediction come true. Therefore, I am going to make a list and put it on the web, because on the web, I’ll be more prone to following it.

            Hopefully.

My List:

1. Be myself.
2. Be more creative
3. Completely edit my baby (my book), and pitch it to an agent.
4. Post more on my blog.
5. Learn how to make friends and stay friends.
6. Do something just because I want to.
7. Be a better person.

And that’s it.

To Let Go

They’re working too hard to enjoy the sunny sun in the Balinese sky. Oh, what a shame; oh, what a stereotypical example of the average working family; oh, what a great insight into the seemingly perfect lives of the rich among the poor.

            I compare my parents—Mom’s on the laptop, Dad’s on the phone—to the workers in our villa—a middle-aged woman is being harassed by my little sister for a glass of sprite, a glass of water and a plate, and they’re running around to gather our needs and to rid us of sights of cockroaches and other mounds of bugs.

            Although I guess I exaggerate. Mounds of bugs? No, no, no. Just a few here and there. The workers seem to enjoy helping us, the most genuine of smiles on their faces. I ask for a plate; my mother chastises me because I can get it myself. But the worker? He tells me with a smile that he will get it. No problem at all.

            Alright, they get money for their work. But hey, it’s not as much as the people they host. I sometimes wonder if they ever wish to be us, to be the ones being served, but when I hear them as they’re in the kitchen cooking our food, or as they’re giving a massage, I can’t sense any jealousy. Everybody here is content; wouldn’t it be amazing to achieve that?

            To be able to know your lifestyle and accept it for what it is. There are the bad sides, the sides that make you want to change everything, but laying back is better. The change—what you want—will often happen on its own.

            Once I let go, forget my desires, set them aside and live my life, all of that, they change manifests itself. And in the end, it’s not much of a change. You become who you’re supposed to be.

            By simply letting go.