To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose – Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

At the turn of the year, the subject of new year’s resolutions comes up, and, invariably, the idea of new year’s resolutions is shot down. It’s magical, wishful thinking, people say. What gives you the idea that a mere change of date could engender any kind of meaningful shift in your life? No doubt these critiques have a point: without more fundamental changes in habits and mindsets it’s impossible to achieve lasting improvements. But I would defend the practice of making resolutions by pointing out that ritualism and grandeur have their place. In life, there are times for hard work and sustained application, but there are also times for big gestures.

I won’t deny that ultimately the substance of a productive, healthy, and successful life lies in consistent effort and habitual performance. The day-to-day reality is mundane, filled with scheduled practices and conscious repetition. It’s a patchwork of habits that have through force of will been honed and grooved. Most of the time, this is what you do.

This is the essence, but it’s not self-sustaining. Underneath the surface, it depends on a psychological wellspring of motivation and drive. Ultimately, what lies at the root of this source is a certain self-image, a self-image consisting of commitment to certain values and ideals. You’re motivated to do things because you see yourself as the type of person who does these things. This commitment, however intangible it might be in principle, is expressed through the medium of action. And so, some of the time you channel your inner British royal and perform some pageantry.

Gestures function as opportunities to give an outward demonstration of a newfound or revived commitment to a goal or project. I wrote in an earlier post about how people might enroll in a course not to learn anything new but to reignite their passion for the subject. This brought to my mind the power of ritual and symbol. You do something extravagant, slightly ridiculous in its ambition or flamboyance, in order to express a symbolic commitment to something. By performing a ritual of this sort, you come into a different head space and tap into the psychological undercurrents that will carry you forward. In a way, it’s like a pragmatic religious practice.

Symbolic acts can’t be used indiscriminately; otherwise they lose their power and are apt to degenerate into a feeble crutch. They alone don’t actually accomplish anything and can only complement the substantive action that does. So to preserve their potency and mystique, you have deploy them judiciously and deliberately. That said, I no longer balk at the seemingly superfluous things people sometimes do. I’ve come to recognize the merit in them and do the same in my life. Just now, I might buy a new tennis racquet to show that I’m committed to the continued evolution of my game. I switched banks to create a different space for my finances to flourish. And almost every day, I put on different clothes to usher in a new mood for the rest of the day. As I once heard it said, there’s nothing like a new pair of socks.