Spring Festival offers a second chance at resolutions

Chinese New Year is like second Christmas for me. Lights are up everywhere, people are buying gifts, recipes for traditional holiday foods are circulating, and families are making plans to spend time together. It's a festive atmosphere and it makes me smile.

Though I feel Chinese New Year is more Christmas-adjacent in terms of the scope of the celebration, the words "new year "cannot help but evoke thoughts of, well, the New Year. And the new year, in turn, evokes thoughts of New Year's resolutions. Dun, dun, duuun!

Love them or hate them, resolutions are an inextricable part of the new year. The idea and process of reflecting on the year past and looking forward to the new year stretching out before you is such a prominent part of our cultural identity that we cannot help but give resolutions at least a fleeting thought. And we couldn't escape the idea of resolutions even if we wanted to.

Magazines, media and blogs are littered with guru advice on how to marshal your motivation to reach your goals. Other articles dole out somber statistics on how often New Year's resolutions fail. Yet others straddle the middle ground and proclaim that any time is a good time to start pursuing a new goal, irrespective of the date. And then there are horoscopes which claim to help you plan for the upcoming year by laying out the fortunes and challenges ahead.

As Chinese New Year has arrived, blogs and articles about the Chinese zodiac and its relative alignment to the Western zodiac are abundant. While I don't put stock in the predictive power of such things, I do think they can spark some thoughtful reflection. This Chinese New Year, I did more than read my horoscope, I went one step further by visiting a suanming (fortunetelling) master here in Beijing. A fortuneteller who, hopefully, would provide me with a more specific picture of the upcoming year.

Steeped in a rich Taoist tradition, the art of fortunetelling in China stretches back centuries, so it was a really interesting experience to go to an expert in the field. The office was one room, tucked in a hutong near a temple. Posters and statues of auspicious figures were everywhere. Old books, an inkstone and brushes were set on the desk. A small bronze bowl engraved with a chart of some sort was front and center. I was handed three old coins. I was instructed to take, shake and drop the coins into the bowl six times.

Each time, the man looked at where the coins fell and made notes. He mumbled to himself. I sat and waited. After consulting a ratty old book, he spoke. He spoke of different hexagrams by name, which had no meaning to me but I appreciated him essentially citing his sources for why he was interpreting my future in the way he was.

Overall, the prognosis is good, especially when compared to the ill fortune I allegedly suffered last year. Happily, starting in February, prospects in love and work are looking up with a couple of minor bumps on the road in late fall. Romantic interests will start to materialize in the spring (fellas, where you at?!). And, career projects will be plentiful and successful. The only slightly alarming element was the prediction that my career will end in 10 years. Why?! Do I retire early? Marry rich? Die? I didn't have an opportunity to ask but now I'm a bit nervous!

He was a kind man, spoke resolutely and I've no doubt he's been studying and telling fortunes for many years. But, as with all predictions, one can easily argue that, based on information given, we can either act upon it or actively try to avoid our fate, thus creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. So how to know if such practices can truly tell the future? Honestly, I don't think it matters. For me it's the questions they raise that make me think about aspects of my life from an angle I may not have considered. That's always a valuable exercise.

Happy New Year!