My Resolution Not To Complain

I treat New Year's resolutions much like flight attendants with a heightened sense of self  importance.  I pay them lip service and then eventually disregard them altogether.  This is why every year I make the same resolution, to be a kinder more tolerant person.  Impossible to quantify and sufficiently nebulous, failure is difficult with room for improvement high.  So, each year I commit to the same thing (or not) and conveniently keep it buried in my subconscious until after Christmas.

This year I am starting early with the thoughts of self betterment and delusions of fulfillment.  While my regular yearly resolution is a noble goal that really should be continually striven for, like world peace or no noticeable panty lines, I have decided to take on a new goal.  Whining, whinging, and general bitching will be kept to a minimum.

I know what you are thinking.  The blog will need to be shut down.  Fear not my loyal band of readers; there are caveats to this resolution almost all of which must apply to my little plot of land in cyberspace. I am trying to be a better person, not a saint.

I have found that I am not alone in this endeavor.  There is a great article on the blog DoubleX entitled The Noncomplaining Project: How Do You Define A Whine?  Like myself, the writers have no interest in banning the occasional vent or friendly kvetch.  They are just looking at how they can be more mindful when doing it.  Unlike Rev. Will Bowen of One Community Spiritual Center in Kansas City, MO who started A Complaint Free World  in which a complaint is defined as any expression of "pain, grief or discontent," the gals over at DoubleX have a less subversive and more realistic view of how they can be less annoying.  It is all about tone and context.

My sudden interest in reducing the amount of bitching and moaning has coincided with an upsurge of complaining at the barn where I board my young horse.  There are several reasons for this: 1) Winter is almost upon us and cabin fever is slowly setting in 2) The population at the barn is almost entirely made up of women 3) See reason number 2.  Commercial horse barns are complaint incubators fueled by an excessive amount of estrogen and caffeine.  Add some cold weather and an outdoor arena too sloppy to ride in and you have won the bitch fest trifecta.  It does not matter what management tries to do, they will be wrong.

Tired of listening to the continual barrage of complaints and determined not to get sucked into the endless mini dramas that make up mornings at the barn, I have decided to start with myself as I cannot make others shut their traps no matter how much I may want.  My complaint reduction program will begin by abiding by that old adage, "If you can't say something nice about somebody, don't say anything at all."  Eye rolling along with impudent inflections while speaking about even the most innocuous of subjects needs to stop.  Moaning about things I cannot change incessantly has had its day.

Before you think I may need to search out labotomy options before undertaking such a task, I am not suggesting that I go cold turkey.  I firmly believe venting is a necessary evil.  Without it, our frustrations back up and start to overflow.  Think unhappy postal workers and better gun control.  The kvetch over coffee and some form of highly processed carbohydrate keeps my friends and me on an even keel. This brings us back to context.  A proper bitch session among good friends when both parties are in the mood has its utility.

This does not mean that I will not lodge a legitimate complaint or seek a different resolution when I am not happy.  Being queen of the doormats is not a position I wish to retain.  Been there, done that.  No, I just want to keep the snide commentary and whininess to a minimum in my personal interactions.  It creates a level of drama better left to the blog.

I will let you know how it goes.  I may even end up being a kinder more tolerant person.

Don't hold your breath.  I don't want to be responsible for anyone going blue.