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The myth of the reset
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The myth of the reset

Anna Cristina Tuazon

My young nieces were looking up at a poster, asking me what it means. It was a family gathering hosted by my cousin and she had this quote up on her wall that says, “You only live once, so make the most out of it.” On top of it was a sticky note: “except if you’re Hindu or Buddhist.” (My cousin happens to be a history professor.) I explained the different religions and how some believe in the concept of reincarnation. They seemed to accept it well enough, with the older of the two saying “some religions are really illogical.” After an hour or so, they pointed up at the poster yet again and asked me what it means. “Of course,” I thought, realizing my fate for this dinner. The cycle of life must bear repeating.

We usually talk about resets when it comes to the New Year. A lot of folks look forward to the idea of a fresh start, setting their goals and intentions for the year to come. Reincarnation contains a similar sentiment, where you get to start your life all over again. There is an essential component to the concept, however, that should hint that this start is not a blank slate. We live again so that we learn the things we didn’t get to learn in our previous life. We live again to make amends and repair the suffering that we’ve caused others in our previous life. What our next life looks like depends on how well we’ve lived the current one, with some being reborn into wealthy families while others being demoted into insects.

We do not need to believe in literal reincarnation to start questioning the myth of the “fresh start.” When we start a new relationship, do we no longer contend with the baggage of our previous relationships? In reality, we bring our experience of pain and betrayal, which then transforms into guardedness and cynicism. Not all baggage is negative. The same pain can transform into wisdom for the future. (This explains why some of my friends bemoan that their once-irresponsible exes had become better partners for the ones that came after them, having gained maturity that, unfortunately, my friends did not get to enjoy.)

Transferring to a new school or workplace has both internal and external constraints as to how “fresh” this beginning is. Our digital footprint, for example, makes us less able to compartmentalize our public image. Our employers can easily search our personal and professional history. The tight-knit Filipino social network means there are overlapping social circles that bridges what we try hard to separate. Even if you get to successfully craft a whole new image for yourself, you still bring fears and anxieties in your new environment such as the dreaded impostor syndrome.

A new year is not a wholly new beginning. We still have to grapple with unfinished business from the previous year. We still have to face the consequences of our actions back in December. Politically, there is still unfinished business that must not be neglected. Politicians love the concept of a reset because it helps them escape accountability. Elections and new administrations are a way of resetting citizens’ expectations. You would recognize this through oft-repeated denials such as “that was the work of the previous administration” (despite having been in office more than halfway through their term). The transition from the 19th to the 20th Congress was a direct example of how politicians made intentional use of this “reset” to undo processes such as laws and impeachment. The deliberations around the 2026 national budget make it sound as if they’ve made significant departures from the corrupt processes that made the previous budget so infamous. Yet a closer inspection shows that they’re still using the same modus, only now under the guise of something new. What looks new and fresh can be a cover for something old and rotten.

The new year is not a reset but a recommitment. We need to recognize that past, present, and future are connected. We need to see that we have been living in perpetual cycles. We don’t need to be literally reborn to see that we have lived this experience over and over again and are doomed to do so until we do something different. A reset just restarts the cycle; it does not change it.

In psychoanalytic theory, remembering is the prerequisite of change. We must remember that we have been here before. We have lived this story before. By remembering, we can choose to act differently. Stray from our well-worn story and change the ending.

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That is the challenge I throw down for the new year: commit to changing the story. Let us commit to changing how we usually react to things and do better. Let us pool together the wisdom of the past, no matter how painful it is for us to remember, instead of discarding it for the sake of a fresh start. Let us recommit to accountability in 2026, so that we can have a chance of genuinely breaking out of our unwanted cycles of suffering.

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aatuazon@up.edu.ph

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