(Just be forewarned: I don’t plan for this post to be extremely long. But, that tends to be how most of my posts start out…)

Just a little nugget of thought before I go to bed.

So, like countless bloggers before me, with the onset of a fabulous new year I devoted a little time to thinking about any bullshit resolutions I’d want to fantasize about actually accomplishing. Just the usual suspects like living healthier, being more environmentally conscious, starting a business, being more charitable, and having a ménage à trios with George Clooney and Hugh Jackman while Daniel Craig films and provides the commentary.

You know — the usual things all people hope to achieve.

But, after about five minutes of thinking about it, I gave up. Why? Because I inevitably thought back to the previous year, when an intensely hopeful and optimistic (and sinfully gorgeous, might I add) version of myself sat at a bar surrounded by friends, toasted in 2010, and filled his head with all sorts of fantabulous things he was definitely going to accomplish by year’s end. Of course, as is the case with most people, 90 percent of those resolutions are now lying in a ditch somewhere nestled between a stack of soggy newspapers and Lindsey Lohan’s career.

Remembering these failed goals only served to make me depressed.

And I couldn’t help but wonder why we, as in humanity, do this to ourselves. This self-torture of setting up completely overblown and ridiculous goals for ourselves that we swear we’re going to accomplish, but almost always don’t. We set ourselves up for failure and the accompanying guilt and diminishment of our self-worth with an almost masochistic fervor. And this isn’t just my pessimism talking: A quick Google or glance at the January edition of most magazines will feature some article or discussion about “sticking to your New Year’s resolutions” or, “accomplishing your goals for the New Year.” Hell, it’s almost become a nationwide joke to make weight-loss a part of your NYRs. Seems to me like there are more people out there failing than succeeding with their New Years goals. I’m definitely one of those people.

But this year I decided to break the cycle. Instead of coming up with an extensive list of hopes and dreams and ideas that I was definitely going to see to fruition in 2011, I was going to leave my mind a blank and open canvass, and let the result of my work and actions ultimately do the painting. In 2011, I was not going to partake of the hope-bong, so to speak.

And of course, the way my mind works, I didn’t just stop with that thought. I let it spread through everything. If 2010 was the year I put too much pressure on myself to accomplish and reach with only busted efforts and no returns as a result, 2011 would be the year I’d take my time. If 2010 was the year I promised to give 150 percent, 2011 would be the year I dialed it back. And then it hit me:

In 2011, FUCK giving 150 percent

And the more I thought about it, the more I began to believe that whoever first came up with the idea of “putting 150 percent into everything you do” should be taken out back and shot. Dissecting the saying, we’re basically telling ourselves to take 100 percent of what we’re capable of at our peak, and adding on the equivalent to half of that. No wonder we as a society get our rocks off to setting ourselves up to fail, the idea is ingrained in our minds from birth.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am in no way championing living a life of resolved laziness. On the contrary – here’s what only giving 100% means to me.

Having confidence in yourself. Because when you tell yourself that you have to give 150 percent to accomplish something, what you’re basically telling yourself is that you aren’t good enough. That you at your best is still unworthy.  The saying is demoralizing at its core. And, I don’t know about you, but me at my best is a thing to behold. It’s true that, sometimes, I just don’t put the required amount of energy into a goal that I should to accomplish it. But then maybe it’s time for me to stop living my life at 50 percent (60 percent on weekends). I should spend more of time realizing my full potential than convincing myself that even at my full potential, I just won’t make it. Of course, there will be times when 100 percent me really isn’t enough to accomplish a goal, but then maybe it’s time to consider this next thing:

Knowing when to admit you are taking on too much. Last year, for a span of a few months, I became a yes-man. A super man.  An anything-you-suggest-I-can-and-WILL-do man. I took on extra responsibilities at work, made a pledge to blog once a day, attempted to start a web-design business, tried to be Mr. Fixit at home, made an impossibly long list of all the books I planned to read in a 6-month span of time, and a host of other things that were suggested that I do. I did this pretty much all at once, and when I decided that something was my new goal to accomplish I blindly attacked it without a proper plan or assessment of the amount of work that would need to be done. Because, you know, if I just gave 150 percent I could do anything.

Of course, practically everything blew up in my face. I found myself reaching so blindly in every direction to get everything done that by year’s end I had to face the fact that I got nothing real accomplished, and that all I’d really done was heap tons more stress onto my year than there ever needed to be.

I don’t want 2011 to be a lazy year. I’m not saying that I don’t want to be productive or forward-thinking, nor am I going to nix goals that aren’t immediately accomplishable. What I will do, with this new “100% or bust” me, is really start paying attention to the people/places/things that I devote my time and energy to. When a new opportunity or challenge presents itself, I’m going to stop fantasizing about the finish line, and start realistically assessing the required journey. I’m going to stop saying “yes!” first, and worrying about where I’ll get the energy later.  I’ll ask myself if I have the time and energy to take something on and, more importantly, ask myself if I truly care about something enough to want to devote myself to it in the first place.

And, if I don’t, I won’t. Simple as that. My time and energy is precious, and I need to treat it that way — instead of whoring it out to whatever bright idea or pleasant thought happens to walk by. Had I thought like this last year, my stress level would have been a lot more manageable, and I probably would have accomplished more.

Knowing when to be content, and knowing when it’s time to grow. I want my life to be exciting, but sometimes it won’t be. That’s ok. In 2011, I’m going to stop the mindset of “do do do!” and half-assed applying myself to whatever (or not getting anything done at all), and accept the fact that sometimes I don’t have the room in my stomach to eat more than what’s already on my plate.

In my last blog I talked about how sick I was of my life being nothing more than the journey between home and work. Well, the sad thing is, maybe that’s all I had energy for. Maybe last year was the year I needed to really focus on getting those two things on track before I could move on and add something else to my life.

It might be embarrassing to admit but, hell, it’s an accomplishment: 2010 was the first year since I’ve been adult that, from January 1^st to December 31^st, I held the same full-time job. I wasn’t fired. I wasn’t laid off. I didn’t quit for something better (that would only turn out worse). I accepted my lot and did what I had to do (work a dead-end job with more downs than ups) because it was responsible. And maybe that needed to be my focus last year.

When I finally joined the Philadelphia Gay Men’s Chorus, it wasn’t without a lot of thought. The chorus would be a once-a-week commitment (with the occasional extra rehearsal or concert). There would be three dues to pay a year and I’d have five months to find a cheap tux somewhere. But I knew I could handle it. I could handle the once-a-week commitment and with more responsible spending and saving my tips from work, I knew I could handle the dues. Not to mention, I love singing and PGMC has been an organization I’ve wanted to be a part of since I moved here. Joining this concert season just felt right. I knew PGMC wouldn’t force me to output more than I was capable of.

I want this process to be a part of everything I decide to take on in 2011. I don’t want to do anything if it doesn’t feel right, nor do I want to take on anything if 100% of what I’ve got won’t be enough.

So 2011 be prepared, because I’m going to give you all of me. No less, but definitely not a dime more.