Willing to Resolve?

Dear one,

 

Resolutions?

Recently within a gathering, I heard: “How many of you have set New Year’s resolutions?” Of those gathered, very few of us responded positively. Admittedly our response might simply have been a factor of who we were at that moment: we were younger, too busy to reflect; we were older, too weary to change; or we were complacent, too content with the present.

Years ago I had occasion to consider the word “resolution.” What I observed was that at the heart of this word is “solution,” and therefore conveys the sense of something “dissolved,” as a chemical might be dissolved in a “solution.” Of course, there is that further nuance, in which we “solve” a problem, and yet here too the word “solve” is related to “solvent,” that is, a solution that dissolves. Underneath these etymological variants lies the one Latin word: solvere, which means “to unloosen” or “to unfasten.” 

Given this Latin word, we can readily see how one liquid or chemical can “unloosen” another liquid or chemical; however, in terms of “solving” a problem that is of mind or heart, what is “unloosened”? Does this “solving” become a matter of “thinking outside the box”? Perhaps, if the problem is geometric or somehow logical, but does it hold true for problems that are behavioral or relational? In my view, the “solution” to relational and/or behavioral problems necessitates heart-and-will power, which often after a burst of energy flags.

So, did I make any New Year’s resolutions? No, I found myself among those, who are weary of the heart and mind “resolutions,” which require will-power. But if so, I am then faced with the picture of Scrooge, after his conversion. For Dickens, I believe, Scrooge’s final turning occurred in Joe-the-pawn-broker’s shop, where he heard:

“Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here … But of the loved, revered, and honored head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes … Strike, Shadow, strike! And see his good deeds springing from the wound to sow the world with life immortal!”[1]

From that moment forward, Scrooge became a man of thanksgiving (e.g. “Thank’ee” rather than “Humbug” soon characterized him), but this because of the One, from whose wounds life immortal came, “unloosened” Scrooge’s heart-will. He now could resolve to change.

Whether a resolution or not, I know that thanksgiving changes my most problematic trait or situation—if I recognize the One most worthy of my thanksgiving.

Resolved to “Thank’ee”

                        Stan

[1] Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, (New York: NAL PENQUIN INC., 1980), p.119-120.