Finding goals in February

It’s the end of February and I’m thinking about goals. I’ve spent years creating New Years Goals, and occassionally stuck to them.

This past January I had no interest in goals. I pushed back on the idea. My brother and I had a lengthy conversation about them and I couldn’t see myself writing them down again.

I’ve had time to think about that. Why don’t I want to have a goal? It’s my stage of life. There’s a lot happening personally and professionally, and most days I’m just trying to keep on top of it all.

To think about lofty ideas in the future, to create a plan and move toward that—well the idea sounds exhausting. Do I setup some big financial or career goals to try and reach? And if I do reach them what does that say about my life?

The overall goal I’ve had for a decade hasn’t changed. I want to live a meaningful life with loved ones, and I want autonomy to create and explore things around me. I also want to help others.

Those are big generic ideas, but they matter a lot to me.

So I’d rather follow those ideas moment by moment and see where they lead me.

But, there is still something to putting a flag in the earth, planning toward a big thing, and moving toward it in small steps. I loved that with my first marathon, and my second. I wouldn’t have done those things otherwise.

In the same breath I prefer my life now. I run regularly, but not on a set schedule. I run for the joy of it, for the life it gives me, for the escape it offers from most things digital.

So why am I torn? Because there are things in life I still want, and I worry that following the river won’t bring those. And so, all dithering aside, I’m examining what big things I want to accomplish.

I’m debating between realistic and aspirational, do I set out to do a thing I know I can do, or stretch beyond that? And when I reach my goal, what then?

This post has the most question marks of any I’ve written, but it underlines the struggle I’m feeling. I’ll report back if I ever figure this out.