Maybe I am more content with myself? Most days I wouldn’t mind abandoning myself at a remote bus stop somewhere, especially in the mornings! The French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre famously wrote in his play “No Exit” that “Hell is other people,” perhaps referring to how burdensome it is to carry around the expectations of others. Perhaps you felt these expectations yourself acutely over the holidays?

One of my favorite contemporary writers, Alain de Botton, tells of an eagerly-anticipated trip to a Caribbean island. He hopes to leave behind all the stresses of home and transform himself, if only briefly, into a warm bundle of sunshine. But when he arrives in Barbados, he wryly notes that “I had inadvertently brought myself with me to the island,” and that his gloomy mood not only traveled with him, but actively resisted a reset. His mood seemed “insulted by the perfection of the weather and the prospect of the beachside barbeque scheduled for the evening.” The ingredients of happiness can never be material or aesthetic but are always “stubbornly psychological,” he added, and simply changing location doesn’t help us escape ourselves. Sometimes it seems impossible to hang up the toolbelt of our psyche and walk away with a mind free and clear.

So maybe a lack of New Year’s resolutions means I’m just more content with being discontent. In a sense, New Year’s resolutions seem to stem from personal discontentment: wanting to be slimmer, kinder, a healthier eater, more positive, better with money. But who determines if Mr. Bubbly Sunshine is better than Mr. Cranky Pants, for example? Or if slimmer is better than heavier? Resolutions seem to stem from feeling pressure to meet cultural expectations. But they also can wickedly stem from self-perception, assuming those can be kept separate from broader influences.

In that respect, I wondered if New Year’s resolutions operate from a glass half-full or half-empty perspective. On one hand, feeling creative and wanting to amplify that, for instance, seems to emerge from the sunny side of the street — the half-full perspective. Feeling not creative — the deficit model — and wanting to be a tiny bit creative, might stem from the half-empty school.

Where did the idea of New Year’s resolutions originate? Given Americans’ penchant for self-help books, and our seemingly never-ending desire to “improve” ourselves, I thought maybe this might go back to Benjamin Franklin’s “Autobiography,” written in the late 1700s. Considered perhaps the first American secular self-help book, it seemed a likely starting place, but the roots of such annual resolves actually go much deeper, to the Middle East. In 4000 B.C. the Babylonians left records of a festival known as Akitu that included promises to “repay their debts and return borrowed objects” in order to curry favor with the gods for new growth, as an article in The Economist notes. But that festival was held in spring, prior to the planting season.

The Romans changed the calendar in 46 B.C. to start the new year on Jan. 1, and they continued the tradition begun by the Babylonians. Apparently, the Romans made promises to themselves to drink less alcohol and be more physically active. Sound familiar?

Here in the United States, the expression “new-year resolutions” [sic] may have first appeared in a Boston newspaper in 1813. Since then, Americans have generally embraced the idea, even if the number actually following through on their resolutions might be skimpy. Just sayin’. But it’s the thought that counts, as is the case with some holiday gifts, as I wrote last month. In a similar vein, maybe it’s a gift simply to desire to better oneself. I love the idea that for 6,000 years people have sought to escape from their limitations, and to supplement themselves with new ideas and new practices.

Here are my favorite published 2026 New Year’s resolutions, plus a few I’ve invented: Take a break from social media; perform a daily act of kindness; call parents or grandparents more; practice gratitude for one thing each day; read more; compliment people; laugh at something you shouldn’t laugh about; spend more time in nature; get 10 minutes of sunlight each day; listen without interrupting; be less perfectionist in one area; explore one new interest monthly. Also, seek to publish something imperfect monthly. (I know I can follow through on this last one).

New Year’s resolutions are all about making things better for ourselves and others, I guess. Maybe there are a few you’ve been considering? And though it seems ironic to consider a resolution to be more self-accepting, just maybe I’ll circle back before the day is over and pick myself up at that remote bus stop, and say, “Hey, ready to head home?”

Hal Crimmel is a Brady Presidential Distinguished Professor of English who served for nine years as chair of the English department at Weber State University. This commentary is provided through a partnership with Weber State. The views expressed by the author do not necessarily represent the institutional values or positions of the university.