When Enkutatash Dawns: The Dance of Resolutions and the Courage to Change

As Enkutatash approaches, I feel that familiar tug—the whisper of resolutions. We scribble them in journals, on phone notes, in the quiet corners of our minds. Why? Because beneath the rituals and revelry, we sense something needs to shift: routines gone stale, dreams gathering dust.Yet for all our fervor, the truth stings: most resolutions crumble.

 We crave a catalyst, a threshold like the Ethiopian New Year, Enkutatash,  to finally leap toward renewal.Why do we do it? Perhaps because deep down, we feel that something in our lives—our routines, our attitudes, our circumstances—needs a shake-up. We crave transformation. But we also seem to need a moment of momentum, a milestone in time to break from our ingrained habits. Otherwise, why would we wait for Meskerem to reinvent ourselves?

Still, if we’re being honest, turning those resolutions into reality is no small feat. While I don’t have hard statistics to prove it, I suspect many Ethiopian New Year’s resolutions circle around familiar hopes: saving more money, quitting smoking, drinking less, getting married, or getting fit. And all too often, by year’s end, many of these ambitions remain—well—unresolved.

Why is change so hard? Maybe it’s simply that change is uncomfortable. Habits—good or bad—wrap around us like old coats. Shedding them takes energy, and when we stumble (as we often do), it becomes easier to give in than to press on. Whether the change is personal—like starting a new diet or daily routine—or external—like moving house or starting a new job—it can feel like scaling an unfamiliar mountain.

Leaving behind our comfort zones, our emotional ties to people, places, and ways of being, is never easy—especially when multiple changes come at once. We’re not exactly wired to let go quickly. These attachments linger, often resurfacing to challenge our resolve. At the same time, we rarely adjust overnight to unfamiliar ways of doing things. Transitions take time.

Yet, if we pause for a reality check, we see that change isn’t the exception—it’s the rule of life.

Look around. The skyline of Addis Ababa, dotted with private high-rises and government condominiums, is constantly evolving. Our economy has seen a record 20% currency devaluation. Prices are soaring as we step into the new year—a deeply unsettling shift for most households. And for many, the year 2003 (E.C.) has brought about another layer of change: relocation, reassignment, or disruption at work.

These are not minor ripples. They are tides of transformation, and it’s natural to feel overwhelmed.

So the real question becomes: How do we cope?

Here, I find John Dewey’s wisdom refreshingly practical. He once said, “As changes are going on anyway, the great thing is to learn enough about them so that we will be able to lay hold of them and turn them in the direction of our desires. Conditions and events are neither to be fled from nor passively acquiesced in; they are to be utilized and directed.”

In other words, we don’t have to be swept away by change. We can navigate it—if we’re willing to engage with it intentionally.

Yes, change can feel more frightening than inspiring at first. I say this from experience. But I also believe things can turn out better—if we strive together for collective progress, mutual understanding, and above all, purposeful action.

So, in the spirit of tradition, let me offer this wish for the Ethiopian New Year:

May it be a time of peace, renewal, and meaningful change. May we turn our boldest resolutions into tangible acts. And may we embrace the challenges ahead not with fear—but with clarity, creativity, and commitment.

 

Məlkam addis amet!

(May your new year be woven with hope)