I love things that emphasize the passage of time, like the change of seasons, the end of one year and the beginning of the next, another candle on a birthday cake.

As December turned to January, two events marked personal passages for me: Two days after Christmas my husband and I celebrated our wedding anniversary, and in early January I will turn another year older.

Also at this time of year we mark the winter solstice, with each day bringing us a little more sunlight, and celebrate a new calendar year, which offers an annual opportunity for renewal and change.

Traditionally, our effort to change takes the form of New Year's resolutions. This practice is usually attributed to the two-faced mythological Roman god Janus, who could see both the past and the future. Janus, after which the month of January is named, sits on the cusp of the past and the present.

Resolutions are usually made in recognition of past follies (looking backward) with the hope of improving our selves (projecting forward to a new beginning). And while there are numerous areas in which I could improve (like exercising more and eating less, resolving to be more patient and making my husband of 32 years happier by tightening the lids on condiment jars), I don't take much stock in New Year's resolutions.

Six days into the new year, most resolutions have begun to fade or have been completely forgotten. Keeping long-range commitments for personal improvement can be overwhelming and are almost never successful.

In truth, I am challenged to recall any previous New Year's resolutions, although when I did make them, they likely centered on exercise, diet and my tendency to be impatient. These issues, and my failure to tighten lids properly, occur as a result of my natural inclination to do things hastily.

Yet, I believe we are capable of change — at least I hope so — for how sad life would be if there was no way to alter our realities. Life is change. We grow from youth to old age, from infancy to maturity. Yet the process for change is much more complex than a simple resolution to do so. Our habits and behaviors lie deep within us and cannot be easily altered.

As we pass through this time of renewal and reflect on how we can make our own world better, I am reminded of the writer Deepak Chopra, an Indian American medical doctor who is considered one of the foremost leaders in the field of mind/body medicine. Chopra's writings challenge our traditional understanding of what it means to be healthy by emphasizing the spiritual in all healing.

In "The Book of Secrets: Unlocking the Hidden Dimensions of Your Life," Chopra talks about the importance of private epiphanies, intuitive realizations that can guide our efforts to change ourselves and our world. Epiphanies don't happen just to people like St. Paul on the road to Damascus; they happen to all of us when we are quiet and reflective, a condition not easily achieved during this hectic time of year. Yet from them comes the power to alter one's reality and bring about significant personal change, not quickly or absolutely, but eventually.

Change is a slow process that I struggle with not just in this season of renewal but throughout the year, and throughout my life. But despite setbacks and failures, I approach each day with hope for a better tomorrow, which will occur not by a change in external circumstances but by my own power to see and alter my reality.

Linda K. Schmitmeyer is a freelance writer living in Middlesex Township. Her e-mail address is lks260@zoominternet.net.