Between the Pages

Do you take stock of your life only at the beginning of the year, or do you check in periodically throughout the months? Are resolutions part of that process?

by Dietrich

I skip the New Year’s resolutions that just turn into grand proclamations that fizzle out by February. Instead of drifting into a new year without a rudder, I turn to little bits of guidance hidden in books—not trendy self-help manifestos, but the timeless works that offer insight for navigating life’s messy turns.

The first that stands out is Viktor E. Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. Drawn from his experiences in Nazi concentration camps, Frankl distills a profound truth: even when everything is stripped away, we still retain the freedom to choose our attitude. That single idea gives me more direction than any resolution ever could. It’s a constant reminder to focus on what I can control and let go of what I can’t.

I recently added Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations to the shelf. The Roman emperor’s private reflections emphasize that we have power over our minds, not over external events. In a world that often feels fractured and chaotic, that simple truth cuts through the noise more effectively than any January vow.

Another book that’s stayed with me is Black Elk Speaks, the life story of an Oglala Lakota holy man, visionary, and healer. Through his words (recorded by John G. Neihardt), Black Elk speaks of true peace, balance, and living in harmony with the natural world and one’s community.

I also find unexpected uplift in characters from popular fiction. Atticus Finch in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird embodies quiet integrity, and he stands firm for what’s right, even when it’s unpopular. He’s a steady reminder to maintain composure under pressure.

Sherlock Holmes, from Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories, offers timeless lessons in observation and logic. “You see, but you do not observe.” That line never fails to nudge me toward paying deeper attention.

Gandalf in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings blends wisdom with decisive action—he knows when to exercise restraint and when to wield that big stick.

And though I don’t usually quote Yoda, there’s real wisdom in his words: “Do or do not. There is no try.” It cuts straight to the heart of commitment, urging one to avoid half-measures and to follow through.

When I take stock, I simply pull one of these books off the shelf and open it at random. Whatever falls from those pages tends to outlast any fleeting resolution. A dash of Atticus’ steadfastness, a touch of Gandalf’s patience, a reminder from Frankl to choose my attitude—drawing from a deep well of accumulated insight.

Skipping resolutions doesn’t mean skipping growth. Rather than waiting for the calendar to flip, I like to open one of those special books any time of year and let the good stuff sink in.