I wonder if I think this every year, but I think the last year was the biggest year of my life.  I closed so many doors so that others could open: I sorted out many things with family and old friends, I made choices solely for my own benefit, I pared down to just what – and whom – I need in my life.  These changes made space for such vast goodness in my life, more than I ever could have imagined, and it continues to overflow my heart.

This morning, I met so many people who amazed me with their dedication to their dreams.  I’m thankful that my heart and eyes were open to see what was before me.

This year, I met so many people – and deepened existing relationships – who fill the exact voids of my soul, who lead me to exactly where I’ve been trying to go, who bring me so much happiness, tenderness, and inspiration.  I’m thankful that I had the courage to cultivate these friendships with honesty and sincerity.

And next year, I think, will be even bigger.

I never used to want to mark the ends of things – I wanted to keep things trailing on, to leave myself a thread or a breadcrumb trail to follow back until I changed my mind about my path. This year I’ve learned the importance of making room for the new, the not-necessarily-improved, the things that are really right.  The things that make me feel like I’m home.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to let things end, to cut free those anchors and sail ahead, even when it means I have to lose sight of the shore completely. I’m thankful for the spaces between things, the pauses, the air that lets us find the edges and differentiate between what is, what was, and what will be.

I hope this day, this time with friends or family or your own introspection or just a big ol’ plate of food, brings you peace, joy, perspective, and a ray of the pure love that I think we all can feel for the whole world.

And, PS, I broke my 5k PR by almost a minute this morning without hardly trying. How’s that for gratitude?

I also:

sewed a Christmas stocking, went to my first NBA game, and realized that I am kind of a moron.

And, through this mistake, an opportunity was lost.

To me, as someone who has consumed more of this blog genre* than she has created, I see the loss of an opportunity to sum up the significance of these blogs in a single statement: These bodies aren’t objects.

Community = Power?

Why, in the year 2010, should so many young women (and let’s be real here: based on the material in the blogs with the highest self-reported readership and Marie Claire’s “Big Six”, we’re generally looking at middle- and upper-middle class white women) need community encouragement to eat food that nourishes their bodies? Why should it be so significant that we run and take yoga classes?

But we do, and it is. And through this community, through making these facts so plainly visible, maybe we will perhaps escape the gaze.

Because we’re not eating well to make the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.  We’re not running marathons to slim down and “keep his attention”. We are using our bodies for our own intentions, living lives of our own design, taking our health into our own hands.

Triggering?

It’s subversive, it seems, that young women might just want to do what feels good for themselves.  I’ve never seen any of the bloggers of this genre* that I read head into dangerous territory, while women’s magazines like Marie Claire itself often delve into disordered suggestions (lose 10 pounds this week! cabbage soup diet revisited! buy these beautiful clothes that only come in sizes 0-4!). If you have a disorder, reading about healthy recipes, working out, and the occasional calorie count might be triggering, but so are plenty of omnipresent ads and fashion spreads that continue to feature tall, gaunt women whose bodies are plainly unrealistic for those with lives beyond a modeling career.

These young women start businesses, get book deals, and oftentimes earn a living from their blog revenue – revenue generated by their very own, original content and dedication.  Many of them have quit their day jobs to pursue their health passions, or refactored their careers to become RDs, health counselors, yoga teachers, running coaches, and personal trainers.

Not objects. They did not take these paths to become objects.

Do they blog about fashion and beauty from time to time? Sure – readers request it, and it’s not easy to find a woman in this demographic who doesn’t care at least sometimes about her appearance. But their day-to-day focus is on living healthy, balanced lives with their healthy, balanced bodies. Bodies that sustain them, bodies that accomplish amazing feats. They celebrate their strength. THEY EAT.

Not Objects

When does the public eye care about women in this demographic? Should we all aspire to be actresses, models, and pop stars? Even professional female athletes are so often reduced to nip slip photos, ass commentary, and male fantasies galore. Should we constantly seek male approval by vying for our own places in the  scantily clad pantheon or dating our way to fame?

Or could we maybe, just once, en masse, use our (female) bodies publicly according to terms that we have defined for ourselves? Could we be happy with bodies that speak to our own identities and interests rather than the preferences (and/or assumed preferences) of the male gaze?

It’s powerful stuff, when you think about it. It’s empowering.

These bloggers are just regular women. They make healthy choices, but they’re regular women. Healthy role models. Big sisters to the Internet at large. They run races, they sift through superfoods (and get ensnared in health food marketing traps on occasion), they sweat through hours of yoga. They struggle:  how do I balance my life? how can I reclaim these “forbidden” foods? why do my friends think it’s a disorder when I base my meals around vegetables? By doing this in the public eye, they most emphatically say: I am doing this.

Many started blogging for that very accountability and approval. They gave what they needed, and now they’re getting what they’ve given. They’ve made a community, and I sincerely hope it thrives long into the future.

Enough Typing Here

While this could easily be a bona fide research topic, all I’ve written here is a blog post. It’s not scientific; I’ve used plenty of cultural shorthand and paraphrasing. This is just a thought that struck me on my lunchtime workout, and it will likely come up again. Possibly even as that bona fide research. There is real power in what these bloggers do.

Also, it might go without saying, I am tired of how f*cked up women are about food/body image/the right to take up space in this world. I would give anything to see a new celeb mom quoted about loving her days-old, healthy baby rather than whining about losing the baby weight.

(On the somewhat-related topic of women who snark on other women’s healthy habits to their faces, today I say only the following:

1. It’s an annoying waste of your time, negative commentator. Nothing nice to say = nothing said.
2. It always sounds like you’re just jealous that you didn’t think to pack a healthy lunch/value your health/plan ahead/escape the Lean Cuisine non-food for lunch trap.
3. I don’t ever know how to respond; “That Snickers ice cream bar you ate for lunch was tempting, commentator, but I couldn’t do that to my arteries,” doesn’t have the right ring to it.)

*The genre being loosely defined as unsponsored blogs authored by American and Canadian women aged 20-35 about their daily food consumption, athletic activity, and health contemplations.

So, hi, blog.

I am terrible with accomplishments. Every time I finish something, I’m spent and pessimistic*.  I’m never happy with the result…at least not until I’ve had some time away from that final product.  To wit:

• Hundreds of successful photography critiques** in art school that left me doubting everything I believed and made.
• An embarrassment of riches (not so much the financial kind, though that’s certainly true enough compared to what some have) that have allowed me to stay steady during some of the most unimaginable events of my life…which can be discredited, demolished, and sent into a gust of wind by the amazing power of my self-doubt.
• Apple picking with my best friend and the love of my life? Not good enough – I should have researched the orchard more, should have made her a commemorative apple-picking tote bag, should have printed a little so-you-picked-20000-apples recipe booklet.

Oh, and of course this blog***.  I thought it kind of sucked.  It might, but only the parts that were forced.  (And the broken images, which I will fix one of these days.)

I looked back at those months when I was more dedicated to posting and I like what I see.  I am still proud of that life.  It’s not so different from life today, which is also pretty reassuring (no major personality fractures…yet), and a beautiful tribute to my silly, anxious brain that likes to play chicken little all too often.

It’s a beautiful time of year, even here in this city that has no real seasons.

It’s a beautiful life, even though the patterns of which I’m a part are often larger than my understanding.

I didn’t talk about it on the blog, but I got engaged in May.  Then I got un-engaged in July.  Neither was easy, but both were the right thing to do.

Having the courage to be un-engaged made so much room in my life, and new blessings flourished all around me.  Long-gone friends returned to me and new friendships thrived.  Family deadlocks dissolved, and together we found the courage to clean up things that had festered for too long. Freedom and peace returned to my life.

I’m so thankful for all of those brightly shining relationships, for the strands that keep me in those webs.

I’m thankful that I had the confidence in myself to let go of things that weren’t working and make room for what my heart always wanted. Religion plays into this, but not in more detail than that on this blog (today ), but so does the new man in my life.

That’s right. Yes, it’s too soon. Yes, I beat myself up for weeks (really, until this past weekend) thinking it was foolish, that it was a rebound, that it couldn’t possibly be what it seemed. Yes, everyone and their brother has told me to put the brakes on for a year. I tried to do all of this without “testing” him, but I’m only human…and he passed with flying colors. Like a dream come true.

So I’m thankful that I held out for this amazing gift of a man who has improved every second of every day of my life since I first met him. Everything has fallen into place so perfectly, but with the simplicity, grace, and silence of the midnight snow. No one is forcing anything into a new shape; everything lands and settles just as it should.

I’m thankful for all of the opportunities and education that I’ve had, and all of those who have boosted me along the way.

I’m thankful every time I can go out for a run, after all the years of being sick and sidelined, especially in this gorgeous fall-ish weather.

I’m thankful that I have the money and opportunity to eat in a way that nourishes my body rather than harming it (especially with Angela’s incredible pumpkin spice whoopie pies, which I made gluten-free by subbing the flours for 1 cup brown rice flour, .5 cups buckwheat flour, and .5 cups tapioca starch, along with 1/2 teaspoon of xanthan gum).

(Yes, I had to photograph them in the dark because that man I mentioned above would have made them all disappear before I could take a photo if he had known they were available.)

And I’m thankful because after all of my years of self-critique, so much has suddenly and sharply come into focus.  I see all my hard work paying off, even though things aren’t always perfect.

I have learned a lot this year, and I could never hope to do it justice here in a single post. I have been waking up inspired again for the first time in years, and I am so excited to go back to doing what I’ve always known I was born to do.

*I tell myself this is okay, because it means I’m giving my all.  Reason or justification? You be the judge.

**Yeah, about the photo critiques and that art school thing…I’ve been doing quick+dirty lazy photos here for the most part.  This may change.

***I have, in fact, been journaling on the web since the ’90s.  This is the first mostly-anonymous, non-personal-life-focused blog effort that I’ve ever put forth, and I think it might end up being the best of all possible blog worlds. Plus, whoopie pies and races and green monsters! Amen.

But I have to admit that, deep down, I’m a silver lining kind of girl.  I just can’t dwell on the negative.

And, I managed to pull off my first ever french twist a few weekends ago all by myself.  Hairspray was involved, but it lasted through a whole (harrowing) day.  Pretty baller.

I’ve been finding lots of strange, unexpected joys.  Like…I’m really enjoying keeping a house.

I did four loads of laundry, scrubbed down the kitchen and the bathroom, swept, and cooked three meals for five over that hideous weekend.  It was wonderful.  Seeing everything all tidy, down to the dish towels in the kitchen drawer, gives me such perfect contentment.  If you knew me in real life, you might stage an intervention at this point (and if you do know me, don’t bother – it’s a lost cause at this point, because my weekends have been spent arranging flowers, scrubbing baseboards, and re-folding sheets so they better fit the linen closet for some weeks now).

Then there’s cooking.  I’ve always been the chef of the house, but I’ve found a new perspective somewhere.

It’s not just about flavors and ingredients and nutrients.  It’s about nourishment, tenderness, and love.

Making a blank-slate apartment into a cozy home, choosing to make healthy, tasty food – it’s all about giving love in the here and now, and hopefully building up some of that love for the future.  It’s about correcting mistakes from the past and putting the world right again, one dust mite at a time.

I guess I’m already supposed to know that, but clearly I was raised by wolves who didn’t keep a house.

Traditions that endure do so because they’re of value.

Before I begin catching up on the last several weeks, I wanted to jump in with the present moment: new year’s eve!  It’s one of my favorite holidays, in no small part because I loooove to set goals and take the time to reflect on the directions I’m taking my life (and sometimes the directions my life is taking me!).

I learned several things about setting goals this year.  The first: one thing at a time!  (At least for big things.)  I got a lot accomplished this year that had been hanging around on my list for far too long (some of it more than two years) because I focused on one thing at a time.

Next up: have a clear vision of the future.  Not the whole future (no crystal ball in my apartment), but some sort of vision that’s at least a few hundred yards down the road.  The clearer this vision, the more memorable and motivating it is!

Finally: keep track.  Keeping track of workouts, food, and money was a habit I tried to form for several years (in keeping with my fitness and financial goals), but this was the year it finally stuck.  I don’t have a real secret for what changed, but I think the constant motivation of the blog community played no small role!

For 2009, I had one “resolution”: to live richly.  2008 was spent trying to get my feet under me and figure out my job, my relationship, and my family.  That flailing definitely laid the groundwork for my 2009 successes, but I believe I owe more to the calm created by my solo resolution.  Having just “one goal” for the year made it easy when I got stuck – whether I couldn’t make up my mind about what to eat, how to spend my money, what to do next, or what attitude to have, I could just do a simple test: does this help me live richly?

It definitely helps that it was an emotional goal, too, not a rational one…I’ve spent many years failing with rational goals, so I’m finally ready to own up to the fact that satisfaction, for me, is rarely a mental thing.  Once I accepted that, my quality of life increased almost instantly – which isn’t to say it’s been a hedonistic year.  Though I bought myself a pair of Louboutins (oh, the things you missed over the past month or so), I also doubled my net worth, got a much better job, and made good on a lot of promises to my family and around the house.  I just enjoyed it all the more because I was willing to make a life that worked for me, rather than the life I felt would logically be best.

So, for 2009, I lived richly.  I made myself a list of sub-resolutions that fell under that umbrella: use my journal/planner, prioritize, live in good health, live economically, drink more wine and eat more salad and soup, travel, keep a tidy space, enjoy everything, and slow down. And I did all of those, though the journal/planner suffered some neglect in November.  I also ran my first half marathon, ran several other races, took two glorious vacations with Wonderful Boyfriend, began eating a high raw diet, became a lot nicer to my co-workers, and ditched a lot of things that were weighing down my life (literally and spiritually).  The hardest part was definitely slowing down while still living in the moment, but it’s been well worth it.  (My need for speed comes from childhood, when I wasn’t expected to live very long so I got a jump start on lots of things…that’s a long story for another day, but hey, 28 years and I’m still here!  Suckas!) (And yeah, that’s a whole folder I keep for goals in the picture.  Don’t be jealous.)

For 2010, I’m keeping this resolution.  I plan to live richly for the rest of my life, in fact.  However, my official resolution for 2010 is even bigger than just living richly!  It is:

Nope, I can’t tell you now – for me, goals are like wishes; if you let them out of the bag too soon, there’s no way they’ll come true.  I won’t leave you completely hanging, though, because I have some subgoals that are far more concrete and shatterproof.  In 2010 I hope to:

• Run a 5k in less than 25 minutes
• Run a half marathon in less than 2:20
• Do a pull-up
• Travel to two places I’ve never been
• Read a new book each month (I get stuck in ruts and reread my old favorites over and over)
• Upgrade the things in my wardrobe that should no longer leave the house on my body…and get rid of them
• Fit a sample size for an upcoming event (it’s not certain, but I have some theories Not jinxing this one!)
• Save 50% of what I earn

I’ll be checking in on these goals as the year goes on – I do daily and quarterly reviews on my own, so I might as well share those in the days ahead.

I’ve been so inspired by the health/fitness/green monster blogging community this year – thank you all for everything you give every day!  (I know who my readers are ) (Don’t I?) (And thanks for hanging in during my unexplained absence.  Patience is a virtue.)

And now, back to this….

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Luckily, I love tea.

Growing up, tea mostly meant weak Lipton in bed when I was too sick for anything else, often accompanied by dry toast or saltines.  The occasional Celestial Seasonings brew would slip in – I don’t remember the flavors, but there’s definitely something familiar about their Lemon Zinger.

In high school, my pretentious intellectualism (fueled by the mid-90′s cultural infatuation with Zen and the new-fangled internets) turned me on to green tea.  I brewed a thermos-ful each morning and toted it everywhere I went; my chemistry teacher insisted it looked like urine, which made me all the more certain I was on a steady path to enlightenment, far too subtle and special for the untrained mind.

Tea marketing exploded around the same time, with Tazo and the Republic of Tea neck in neck.  I purchased a Bodum teapot and entered the world of the loose leaf while my peers learned to suckle at the sweet Chai syrup pump offered by good mother Starbucks.*  I reveled in the exotic, esoteric mysteries of tea (likely my first foray into culinary anthropology) – the precision, the elements of chance and surprise that shaped the flavor of each cup, the magical and ancient discovery of these dried, fermented leaves.

I learned all the ins and outs of tender white tea, robust black tea, my cherished green tea, rich and strange oolong.  Tea from twigs, tea with nuts and berries, tea from herbs, tea that begins as tiny balls and unfurls into tiny, delicate banners.   I became quite the tea snob, shunning the likes of Teavana and dragging my oh-so-patient boyfriend up to Boston to visit Tealuxe (for some reason, my tea mecca of 1997).

Alas, tea and I drifted apart when I moved away to college.  Everything was expected to be functional, so only the reliable echinacea and clover teas found a home in my pantry.  There was no time for the foolishness of flavor, and coffee was much quicker when I needed a brain boost.

Gifts of tea still trickled in (the replacement for Bath and Bodyworks gift sets, it seemed, as the de facto acquaintance-level present), growing dusty and impatient in the back of unlit shelves.  Each time I moved, the tea was toted along, often long past its prime.

When my Wonderful Boyfriend and I merged households, we needed an entire pantry shelf for the tea we had each accumulated over the years.  In the commotion of new love, tea’s slow boil-and-steep ritual was easily brushed aside.  As we have mellowed, this forgotten friend has found its place at our table – iced and sometimes flavored in the hot summers, crisp and green on quite mornings, fruity and bold in the afternoons.  And I wonder: was I really too busy all this time for a cup of tea?  I wish I would have accepted tea’s invitation more often to pause for a few minutes and just wait, just be, rather than rushing ahead for more, more, more.

And that is where the distraction comes in.  I have again been guilty of distracting myself from what matters, often with a sneaky ally of what-matters-in-sheeps’-clothing.  If I don’t have time for a cup of tea, if I have to press onward and the urgency is unending, I’ve gotten myself off track once again.  Whatever is real will be there when the dust settles, and it will be there even if you look away; it’s not in a spreadsheet or a mindmap or a race time or a calendar.  It’s lucky, really, because what’s real is much stronger than any of those, just a bit more enigmatic in its nature.

It seems sometimes like it’s the American way – push on and the problems will disappear, find a way to escape and you’ll feel better without any of the nasty contemplative parts.  The problem with escape is that you’re always on the run.

(No running pun intended.  And, no thinly veiled confession that I plan to quit running – I am still running.)

*Yes, I know that Starbucks chai is no longer a syrup – trust me, I worked there back when it was still cool.

In honor of fall, I ate something I normally wouldn’t:

I love maple yogurt, but nutritionally it’s a little weak (lots of sugar, no special antioxidant boost like strawberry or blueberry offer).  Today was an excellent excuse for a little “junk food”

I started keeping a bit of a closer eye on what I’ve been eating because I haven’t been feeling so hot (I got gluten-ed last Saturday, right before my 5k, but that’s a different kind of feeling not-so-hot), and I’ll be darned if I haven’t been eating about 400 more calories a day than I thought I was.  That’s almost a whole extra meal!

I haven’t seen the effects, but I’d rather nip that in the bud before I do.  Only two months until my big event – not enough time to play catch-up with mistakes   I made a new meal plan that includes a smaller breakfast, a smaller dinner, and one less snack during the workday (replaced with another cup of tea).

I find that every fall I find the urge to get back to brass tacks and make sure everything’s in order.  I spent an hour this morning updating my budget and I emptied my to-do list (sleepily) before I left for work today.  The need for order carried over to work – I’ve knocked out everything that’s been lingering in my Outlook task list in the “not really due so let’s put it off because it’s tedious and/or thankless” category.  (Ok, that’s not really a category, but every project has those tasks.)

All of my planning has really highlighted that I’m feeling unfulfilled.  There are a lot of things in my life that have been waiting on other people for too long…I’m trying to be patient and polite, but those time limits are running out   When time gets short, I end up cutting out the things that are sort of selfish (blogging, working out, cooking what I really want to eat rather than just heating up more broccoli and tofu, and so on) because I’m the only one who feels that pinch.  Sometimes I wish I could be more selfish and oblivious

Several things learned this week:

• Blackberry users: make sure you close programs when you’re not using them!  I had several programs running in the background (including a game that I played once while waiting for the bus that did not have an exit option) that were totally draining my battery, but now that I’ve removed them my battery is as good as new
• If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
• Sometimes a little “thank you” goes a long way, especially from the right person (yeah, you, mister top-of-the-org chart.  Made my day!)

Off for a walk in the “brisk” (72 degree) evening air.

A quick detour into dinner-ville before I talk about goals:

Red quinoa cakes (made the same way I made these quinoa cakes, but with the addition of lentil sprouts)

…topped with chickpea stew (yep, much like this chickpea stew), and accompanied by a tasty avocado yogurt sauce.

The sauce couldn’t be much easier, but it added a rich, refreshing note to the otherwise all-too-familiar meal.

Avocado Yogurt “Secret” Sauce

Ingredients:

• 1 part avocado (or guacamole; I used the leftover bits of pre-made guacamole, and in fact mixed this right in the Whole Foods container)
• 2 parts yogurt (I used Nancy’s plain nonfat yogurt)
• Salt to taste (or be like me and use truffle salt!!)

Procedure:

1. Combine ingredients.
2. Serve.

And, believe it or not, I made the stew this morning before work! I sautéed the peppers and eggplant, added the leftover cooked chickpeas and tomatoes, seasoned, heated, and left the flavors to blend while I toiled with my new BFF: SharePoint.  I definitely could not eat like this after work if I didn’t get a head start by pre-cooking time-consuming staples like beans and grains on the weekends.

Goals

I like goals.  I’d love to tell you how to set goals, but there are plenty of sites out there that can describe different methods of setting goals.  (Maybe I will write my own guide sometime, but that is another post.)

What I like most about goals is not meeting them.

Seriously.

I have a lot of goals:

• rolling 5 and 10 year plans
• a set of about 10 goals for the year (like resolutions, just not called that)
• monthly and weekly goals for my life at home
• fitness goals
• work goals (project-based, review-based, career-based)
• an overall “epitaph” goal
• financial goals

…and the list could go on.  But, instead, I’m focusing on what to do with goals once you’ve set them – and once you’ve met them (or not).

“Magic” (long-term) Goals

Some goals are like magic – you write them down, forget them, and come back to them in a few years to discover that you’ve accomplished even more than you thought you would.  I’ve found this is mostly true of goals with at least a one-year horizon; anything shorter and you don’t “forget” your goal sufficiently to allow yourself to make it happen.  I was really proud of myself when I saved my first $3000…until I looked at my 5-year plan and saw that I had written that in two years prior, though I was broke and struggling at the time since my job had just run out of funding.

Short-Term Goals

Other goals – shorter goals, more concrete goals – need a bit more help.  (These are my specialty – and what I have specialized in at work for a long while – so the long-term goals will be getting the short end of the stick in this post.)  These are the goals that you write down and keep posted where you can see them, or that you repeat to yourself every day when you wake up (or sit down at your desk, or lace up your sneakers).  I use a daily and weekly tracking system for my fitness goals, recording workouts every day and fitness progress (key measurements, for example) each week.  I know that I would still make progress if I didn’t keep close track, but I would not know how best to adjust my workouts to get the results I want in the shortest amount of time.

These shorter goals are also the ones you’re more likely to blow.  I might set a goal to take 2 minutes of my slow training pace in a week, which would be fine to do at my fitness level.  But if I try all week and can’t do it, I’ve created a great opportunity for myself: I get to learn why I didn’t meet my goal, which will help me find a weakness in my fitness plan.

Failure is Still Success

Failing to meet a goal is a win-win situation, really.  If I meet my goal – great, I’ve accomplished something I want to do.  If I don’t meet my goal, I’ve caught a bug in my system and I can take care of it before it affects my progress more or becomes a larger problem.  (I think it’s vital to think like this if you’re going to set goals; if you can’t practice this kind of self-compassion and positive thinking, goals will likely do you more harm than good – they’ll become signposts of failure, rather than stepping stones into the future that you want.)

There are all kinds of reasons I might not meet a goal, but a few minutes of thinking and looking back at any training logs or other “data” usually clears things right up.  My analysis goes something like this:

• How close did I come to meeting my goal?  If I came very close, what kept me from hitting my target?  Should I call it “good enough”?
• Were there any unusual circumstances that kept me from meeting my goal (friends in town, new project at work, sick, finances, etc.)?
• Was my goal something I really cared about and prioritized?  If not, is it a goal worth keeping?
• Was my goal reasonable, or did I try to do too much too soon?

Depending on how that line of questioning goes, I will either scrap the goal altogether, try the same thing again, or change the goal to make it better suited to me.  I get to learn what I’m capable of, see what I really care about, and tailor my life and plans more precisely to what I want to be, do, see, and have.

Does it get any better than that?   All of this from failing!  (But I warn you: this is real failure, not the kind of failure that never gets off the couch.)

Caution: Goals Ahead

Just like their close cousin the To-Do list, goals can be overwhelming.  Even though my list of goal categories is long, I don’t set more than 3 short-term goals at a time in any category.  After all, short term goals should be met sooner rather than later, right?  Here’s how I keep my short-term lists short and sweet:

1. Set a firm limit on the number of goals that you’ll consider at any point in time.
   • Write down all of your goals, hopes, dreams, etc., then sift out the three that seem most intriguing, easiest, most important, etc.
   • If that doesn’t work, try the rule of 1/3 +1: Take away 2/3 of your goals, then add one back in.  Repeat until you’ve got no more than 5 goals left.
   • Sleep on it – come back to your long list a day or three after you’ve written it and see what still sounds good.
   • Worst case scenario: put the goals in a hat and draw three.  You can always come back to the rest.
2. Be honest and realistic!
   • Don’t set a goal to run a 2:30 marathon in three months if you haven’t run in years.  If a 2:30 marathon is your goal, recognized it as a long-term goal – then break it into smaller steps (start by building up to a 3 mile run, find a training program, choose a race, join a training group, get fitted for shoes, etc.)
   • Don’t set a goal to drink wheatgrass every day if you hate it! Your goals should bring out your best and motivate you to improve – don’t get seduced by fads or things you feel like you “should do”.  (However, those “should do” things can be great starting points – for instance, if the daily wheatgrass shots you’d hate would be your answer to having more energy or eating more vegetables, make a goal about eating more vegetables, getting more sleep, or trying another energy-booster.)
   • Don’t set a short-term goal to do yoga for 3 hours a day if you work full-time and have a long commute.  If you’re only home and awake for 3 hours after work each night, chances are you won’t be able to spend them all doing yoga.  If 3 hours of daily yoga practice is really important to you, you can likely find a way to make it happen – just not immediately.  In the meantime, you could set a short-term goal to practice for a more sustainable amount of time each day.
3. Keep Simple Records
   • There are a ton of great goal-tracking websites and methodologies, but you don’t need to go overboard with your tracking system.  A simple “X” on the calendar each day that you meet your goal works pretty darn well.
   • Update your progress no matter what – don’t fall behind in your tracking, even if you’re not progressing toward your goal.  (You will not come back and fill it in later.  I promise.)
4. Don’t stress if you aren’t on track!
   • Go back and read the part about failure = success again!  Unmet goals are great opportunities to learn about yourself, even if all you learn is that you made an unrealistic goal.  (I’ve made plenty.)
   • If you can’t even get started on your goal, move on to analysis.  Why aren’t you starting – is it too hard? Are you trying to start at the end when you should be starting at the beginning?  Do you need help or more information to get started?  Did you think you wanted to build that awesome model dinosaur you saw online, order the kit, and realize you’d rather look at the cool thing on that blog than make it yourself?  All of these are good things to learn, and good prompts for new, better goals.

The path to success is paved with these small failures, at least my short-ish path to the moderate successes I’ve had so far.  Failing means you tried, right?

My strategies for long-term goals are different, but I will have to get back to those another day…if I write much longer, I’ll fail to meet my “get at least 7 hours of sleep so I’m not a zombie” goal