I never knew such a special day of observance existed until I watched a commercial on TV last week. I don’t even remember the product or service the ad was pitching.

But Quitters Day is actually a thing. (Must be. I saw it on Google.)

The second Friday of January has been designated as Quitters Day because it has been determined that most people who developed resolutions for the new year have abandoned them by this date. (This year, Quitters Day is January 10th.)

Whether a person develops resolutions, intentions, or a short list of dreams and goals with the help of a highly paid life coach or in a drunken stupor on New Year’s Eve, we’ve been indoctrinated into thinking that a life without goals and measurements is pretty much worthless.

Many people quickly embrace new goal-setting systems or the latest best-selling author’s podcast interview condensed advice for making strategies for attainment work this time when they have failed in the past only to be disappointed.

No doubt about it. Change is hard.

I had a weird experience of this early in December.

I woke up one morning with a sore back and a stiff neck. Not unreasonably, I concluded that my side of the bed had gotten too soft. I sleep on the side of my king-sized, low tech example of sleep technology near the window and reading lamp. My dog, all twenty-one pounds of her, sleeps on the other side.

The imprints of our respective bodies must be firmly imprinted into the coils.

As I don’t have adequate size or upper body strength to rotate the mattress myself, my solution was to simply sleep on the other, less utilized, side of the bed. This, of course,  confused my dog as it confused me. My body didn’t want to fall asleep from this new  position. My pup gravitated towards the middle, it being almost familiar territory. Of course, it defeats the purpose of having a big bed if you have to crowd into a fraction of it.

Change is hard.

It seems like the people in your circles, not necessarily intending to disempower or harm you, will pull you back into patterns they’re more comfortable with.

Becoming happier is not simply about reaching goals. It’s not just about writing down what you want or visualizing how great you’ll feel once you reach a goal. It’s not only an exercise in imagination like finetuning wardrobe details when you live a day as Emily of Emily in Paris.

Clarifying goals and dreams can be powerful. Self-understanding always is, but success is not instantaneous. Writing resolutions or having a goal buddy is not like taking Ozempic or Mounjaro for the soul. We can’t expect things to turn around immediately.

Maybe getting what we want doesn’t serve any greater purpose and will not be supported  in getting realized outside of our own efforts. Maybe what we think are important goals — driving a certain kind of car, living in a certain neighborhood, having a particular career — are actually the dreams of parents or friends. Maybe we think we want the lives of people we admire.

I’m not sure why, but I felt compelled to write down a handful of actions aligned with my values and yearnings. Probably reflective of my age, my declarations revolved around regular doses of music and feelings of connection.

“Calling instead of texting fifty percent of the time” and doing more things “outside of my comfort zone” came up.

I also told myself to look at my experiences and record things I wanted to pay attention to, contemplating what my “notices” might mean. The concept of building self-trust seemed lacking until I added, “Appreciate incremental progress.”

Change might be hard, especially changing from the inside out, but reminding yourself that the purpose of your life is to experience more joy just takes continual awareness and adjustments.

If we can ask ourselves does this thing I’m about to do (or invest in or re-commit to) make me happier or less happy and adapt accordingly, we get into a great habit — and we don’t need to look at a calendar.

Acknowledging incremental progress is no small thing.