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It’s November, and that familiar question is beginning to creep in. Another year is nearly over. What have I done with it?

There’s a line in Happy Xmas (War Is Over) that has always felt a little daunting: “And what have you done?” I know the song has a much bigger message, but that question tends to find its way into my own thoughts as the year draws to a close.

An old friend called me yesterday, and somewhere in our conversation, resolutions came up.

It made me think about how often we approach a new year with familiar intentions. We want to get healthier, save more, pursue something we have postponed or finally make time for ourselves. The enthusiasm is real. So are the hopes behind it.

But we have also seen what happens, year after year. Life gets busy. We miss a few days. The initial excitement fades, and something we genuinely wanted slowly slips out of view.

I understand the appeal of starting over. I’m just increasingly interested in what happens after we announce that we are going to.

What’s the plan?

I remember a scene in The Good Wife where Will calls Alicia and begins talking about his feelings. Her response was wonderfully practical:

“I get the romance. Show me the plan.”

Their situation is complicated, and I’m borrowing her question rather than offering their relationship as an example to follow.

It is lovely to imagine a different life. We can become quite attached to the picture of ourselves living it. The practical questions tend to be less exciting.

When will this happen? What needs to change? What responsibilities do I have to account for? What am I actually prepared to do?

A declaration can be sincere and still leave all of that unanswered.

“This year, I’m going to lose weight”

Here is an example. You tell a friend that your resolution is to lose weight or start going to the gym.

But what is the plan to get there?

Have you found a gym you can realistically get to? Can you afford the membership? Which days fit around work and family? If you intend to go before work, what time do you need to get up, and what needs to be ready the night before?

The resolution names an outcome. Those questions begin to explain how you might work towards it.

A more practical starting point might be: “For the next month, I’ll go to the gym twice a week, on days I’ve checked against my calendar. At the end of the month, I’ll see whether that routine is workable.”

That doesn’t guarantee a particular change in weight. It gives you an action to practise and something concrete to review.

SMART goals can help with this. The framework asks whether a goal is specific, measurable, achievable, relevant and time-bound. You don’t need to turn your personal life into a management exercise to borrow a little of that clarity.

The important part is making a plan for the person you are now, with the time and responsibilities you actually have.

A destination still needs a route

Think of somewhere you would love to visit.

It is easy to imagine arriving. You can picture the view, the food, the feeling of finally being there. Planning the trip brings a different set of questions.

How will you get there? What will it cost? Do you need to save first? Are you travelling alone or with someone else? Which dates work? What happens if a connection is cancelled or the route you wanted is unavailable?

The logistics don’t spoil the dream. They give you a way to reach it.

I think our other hopes deserve some of that attention. We can spend a long time imagining the destination while leaving the journey remarkably vague.

And a useful plan should allow for a detour. If the first route becomes impossible, that doesn’t necessarily mean giving up on the place you wanted to go.

You can reset before the year ends

There is no reason to give January exclusive rights to a fresh start.

A monthly review could be enough to notice that a routine isn’t working before abandoning it entirely. A quarterly reset gives you a little more distance to ask whether the things you are working towards still matter.

Neither needs to involve buying a planner or redesigning your life. You could set aside half an hour and ask:

• What did I actually make time for?
• What kept getting postponed, and why?
• Is this still something I want?
• What would make the next month more manageable?
• What is one action I can put in the calendar now?

A monthly check-in might help you adjust the details. A quarterly one might be the moment to reconsider the direction.

Perhaps the goal was too ambitious for this particular season. Perhaps you have more room now than you did three months ago. Or perhaps you have been carrying an old ambition out of habit, without asking whether it still belongs to you.

You are allowed to change the plan when you learn something.

Leave enough room to keep living

I would also build in a little leniency.

If missing one gym session means the whole week is a failure, the plan is going to become exhausting very quickly. A demanding week at work, an unwell child or a few nights of poor sleep can disrupt even a sensible routine.

It helps to decide what returning looks like. When is the next session? Is there a smaller version of the task you can manage this week? Does something need rescheduling?

For me, discipline should include being able to continue after an interruption.

I want routines that help me work towards things I care about while leaving room for the life happening around them. There should still be space for an unexpected invitation, a slow afternoon or a day that simply doesn’t go well.

Otherwise, even our hopes can become another source of pressure.

Wanting it still requires something of me

I understand the appeal of manifestation. Imagining something can help clarify what we want and make it feel possible.

But I can’t manifest myself out of bed. At some point, I have to get up.

That is where the less romantic work begins: making the call, opening the document, putting money aside or showing up when the initial enthusiasm has worn off.

James Clear’s distinction between goals and systems is useful here. A goal describes what we want to achieve; a system concerns the repeated actions that support it.

The system doesn’t have to be elaborate. It needs to be usable on a fairly ordinary day.

I explored a similar thought in Before you change your life, change your Tuesdays. Much of what we hope for has to find a place in the week we already have.

Faith, gratitude and being open to a different direction

Faith and prayer are deeper subjects than a discussion about resolutions can properly cover. I can only speak about what they mean to me.

Alongside making my own plans, I try to understand what God’s plan for me might be. That involves accepting that something I want may not unfold in the way I expect, or on the timetable I would prefer.

I’m also trying to be more grateful for things I used to complain about.

That doesn’t mean I don’t complain anymore. I do. But I try to bring myself back to what I already have, especially when I have become too focused on what is missing.

Gratitude doesn’t remove ambition. I can appreciate my life and still hope to change parts of it. It does help me remember that the present isn’t merely something to get through on the way to a better future.

If you don’t believe in a higher power, you might understand this as staying open to what life brings. You can choose a direction, make an effort and still allow experience to change your mind.

Having a plan doesn’t require believing that everything is within your control.

Three books to explore alongside this

The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest

This connected with me through its discussion of self-sabotage and emotional habits. Sometimes the difficulty isn’t knowing what we want, but understanding why we keep responding in ways that make it harder to move towards it.

That said, every obstacle isn’t self-sabotage. Time, money, health and support can impose real limits. Looking inward is one part of the picture.

Read my review of The Mountain Is You.

Atomic Habits by James Clear

A useful book to explore for its focus on habits and systems, particularly when a broad intention needs to become something repeatable.

Read Clear’s explanation of goals and systems.

Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman

A different perspective on planning, centred on the limits of our time and our inability to fit everything in. It offers a useful question alongside all our ambitions: what are we willing to give our attention to, knowing we will have to leave other things undone?

Find out more on the author’s website.

Starting from where I am

I don’t want to arrive in January with a list that sounds impressive and no idea how it fits into my life.

I would rather choose something I care about, work out a reasonable next step and give myself a date to check how it is going. A month from now, I may need to adjust it. Three months from now, I may understand the goal differently.

That feels more useful than waiting for another year to end before asking what happened.

I still like having hopes. I like imagining where life might go. But Alicia’s question is a good one to bring back when I’ve spent enough time enjoying the possibility.

What’s the plan?

Do you make New Year’s resolutions, or do you prefer to check in with yourself throughout the year?

References: Alicia’s dialogue appears in the script for The Good Wife’s season-one finale, Running. The song referenced is Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono. For the goal-setting framework, see Mindtools’ SMART goals guide.