I am discovering that the promises I make to myself are short-lived. The New Year’s resolutions I make for myself fade to forgotten quickly, while resolutions that I make with others tend to endure. The revelations about what matters to me get shaken by run-of-the-mill doubt. A few years ago I swore I’d incorporate meditation or at least daily intentions. I also thought I’d gotten the hang of embracing, as John Legend sends, my curves and edges and perfect imperfections. Nope. At least I am not alone, I tell myself. The arrival of Oprah and her campaign to go Beyond the Scale and the epiphanies of women all around that, my god, if Oprah can’t buy it, sustain it, or master it, who can? I’d like to think that I…