Why New Year’s Resolutions Set Us Up to Fail
- A Broad Perspective
- Dec 16, 2025
- 4 min read
Breaking Habits Without Breaking Yourself—The Japanese Systems for Real Change
It’s almost the New Year.
That familiar moment when we start talking about New Year’s resolutions—what we’re going to stop, fix, quit, or finally get right about ourselves.
And yet, year after year, so many of those resolutions quietly fall apart.
Not because people don’t want change.
Not because they’re weak.
But because of how we approach change in the first place.
We rely on force.
The Problem With FORCE
Most serious habits and addictions didn’t start as destructive behaviors. They started as comfort.
Every habit—even the unhealthy or undesirable ones—once served a purpose.
That first cigarette calmed your stress or helped you feel like you fit in socially.
That sugar habit softened exhaustion.
That scrolling numbed something uncomfortable.
Habits aren’t formed because we’re broken.
They’re formed because we’re trying to cope.
But when January comes, we suddenly decide these habits are enemies. We try to break them through willpower, discipline, and pressure—ignoring why they showed up in the first place.
And when we ignore the purpose, we usually fail.
A Different Way of Understanding Habits
In Japanese philosophy, habits aren’t viewed as flaws to eliminate.
They’re seen as responses—temporary solutions to real needs.
There’s a story about a monk who found himself becoming extremely angry with his students whenever they made mistakes.
He tried everything to control it—fasting for days, repeating mantras, and long periods of meditation. Nothing worked. His frustration only grew.
An older monk finally told him to stop trying to control the anger.
“Watch it arrive,” he said. “Like a passing cloud.”
Acknowledge the feeling.
Sit with it.
Allow it to move through you.
Witness it—without judgment.
The monk doubted it but tried anyway.
And by observing his anger rather than fighting it, it passed more easily.
This is impermanence.
The understanding that nothing lasts forever—not even cravings, urges, or emotions.
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Sitting With Discomfort Instead of Escaping It
In Western culture, discomfort is treated like an emergency.
If we crave sugar while dieting, we either need sugar now or we need to distract ourselves immediately. Our system reacts as if something is wrong—fix it, change it, escape it.
The Japanese approach asks something very different:
Sit with the discomfort.
Do not run away.
Do not try to fix it.
Be present.
Allow the feeling to rise and fall on its own.
A businessman trying to quit smoking used a method that reflects this beautifully. He placed his cigarettes on his desk instead of throwing them away. When a craving hit, he would smell a cigarette, put it back in the package, and set a timer for ten minutes.
If he still wanted it after the timer went off, he could smoke.
What he noticed was that the most intense cravings peaked around three to five minutes—then slowly passed. By the time the timer ended, the urge was often gone.
Kaizen: Slow, Steady Change That Actually Works
Kaizen means slow, continuous improvement.
We tend to encourage all-or-nothing change, which immediately triggers the body’s alarm system—fight or flight. But habits often live deep in the nervous system, and panic only strengthens them.
Kaizen avoids that.
If you scroll social media four hours a day, you don’t quit cold turkey—you reduce it by five minutes a day.
If shopping has become a coping mechanism, you don’t swear it off forever—you wait 24 hours before purchasing, then slowly extend that pause.
We want to avoid triggering the human alarm system.
We don’t want the body operating in emergency mode.
Ikigai: What Are You Truly Seeking?
Ikigai asks a deeper question: What are you actually looking for through this habit?
A businesswoman once drank a bottle of wine every evening after work.
It started with a glass but over the years escalated. She tried repeatedly to stop, but nothing worked.
When she finally sat with herself honestly, she realized it wasn’t about the alcohol. It was about transition.
That glass of wine marked the shift from work life to home life. It was a ritual—a way to change gears.
Once she replaced the transition instead of attacking the habit, everything changed.
Entering the New Year Differently
We don’t break habits through shame or force. We understand them. We build upon them. We create new neural pathways—just as the brain itself does.
If we set ourselves up for disappointment, we end up disappointed—and harsh and critical toward ourselves.
Growth starts from self-respect and compassion. Not from war.
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