Face it. For most of us, end of the year reviews are easier than ones we conduct in March and April.

We vow to be kinder to ourselves and others. We contemplate a wide range of self-improvements; from losing weight to taking a class. But we know accommodations can be made easily. Most resolutions can be postponed, revisited.

But, April 15th tax reconciliation and filing, is harder to ignore. It’s mandated by law. There’s always the possibility of an external audit.

It’s an inescapable annual ritual for self-judgment. We ask ourselves whether we made enough money the previous year, whether we chose a clever enough accountant.

In preparation, we receive statements of income from employers and, if we’re lucky, from investment houses and summaries of charitable contributions.

There are computer programs and all sorts of tools to help us keep financial records. They’re all offshoots of the same concept.

Ledgers, registers, balance sheets, financial statements… We learn the concepts of accounting and record-keeping as children. We keep lists and run our lives by them.

Santa keeps a list of who’s been naughty or nice.  We learn at a tender age about wins and losses.

Many of us get so attached to the idea of winning that it’s easy to forget what we were setting out to accomplish. Winning is not the same thing as cultivating excellence or experience being part of a team.

And paying taxes (or avoiding paying them) has become one of the most concrete ways we can employ to measure ourselves.

Concrete and measurable is not necessarily the best lens for seeing the truth. Just easier. Who can argue with the numbers, right?

I stress at this time of year, even though my income is not high nor are my accounting methods particularly suspicious.

In general, I don’t like measurements. I don’t like the idea of reducing an experience to a summary of figures.

Many people declare a vacation as good if they get a deeply discounted airfare. Gift-giving etiquette emphasizes the importance of “paying for your plate,” spending what might be commensurate with the cost of hosting you, not on how to choose something that might delight who you’re gifting.

Experiences are often judged good or bad if they can be checked off a list.

I value experiences for many different reasons. I may choose to do something with strangers instead of friends. I may choose to do something the same way every day or seek opportunities to do things I’ll never do again.

I’ve heard the expression, “it’s all good” and have seen people regard these words with doubt. I have uttered these words myself, not sure I fully bought in, but I think I’m starting to understand.

I wondered: How could human beings like things that aren’t overflowing with what they have always wanted? How could anyone not have preferences? How could anyone throw their ledgers and lists away?

I can’t imagine a world where I like Brussels sprouts or not look forward to a day of sunshine. But I try to leave room for things that are not known desirables.

The spirit of IT’S ALL GOOD is simply about not being attached to getting what you think you want, staying open to possibilities and finding joy in unexpected ways. Not referring to your list or balance sheet and using figures, not feelings, to gauge how you’re doing, takes practice.

Completely buying into “it’s all good” is no small thing.