How Writing Down Goals Actually Helped Me Feel Accomplished
I am a list writer. I love a list. I love everything about a list. I love making it, it’s like my brain takes a deep breath, kicks it shoes off and sits back in its favorite chair. And, crossing things off the list? Don’t get me started, I don’t think I have adequate words—it’s like nirvana. If I manage to play my cards right here on earth, I imagine my days in the afterlife will be spent in Heaven just crossing off lists. The depth of pleasure and satisfaction it gives me is absurd.
So, while a to-do list is my jam, I am very hesitant to write down long-term goals. I’ve ready tons of articles and books that emphasize the importance of this step. I get there is something to it. There was a study done at Dominican University that actually proved that people that wrote down their goals had a significantly higher chance of realizing them. So, why the hesitation?
I think, for me, like a lot of us, it goes back to good old failure. Or, if we drill even further down, it’s straight up fear. If I write down what I want to accomplish, I’m going “on the record” it’s out there, in the Universe and now I have to answer to it. I either achieve it or I don’t. I succeed or I fail. It’s personal vulnerability at it’s best. I’m not a fan of vulnerability.
All The Feels–UGH!
Vulnerability and I have such a love/hate relationship—we break-up at least once a week, but somehow we always end up back together. I try to avoid it, I’ll even start dating other people like judgement or self-doubt, but vulnerability always weasels its way back in, it’s a creeper. Most likely because all roads lead back to it, it’s like the annoying mom at school that always wants you to sign up to volunteer for something—you can only avoid her for so long, until one day you just have to smile and sign up.
So, I did. I signed up. I made a list of goals. I read at least 345 articles on goal setting, because, you know—procrastination. Also because, if I am going to write down these goals I want them to be spectacular, like the best goals that have ever been, because Type A, perfectionist—really batting a thousand thus far in goal setting. After my “research” I tried to make them “SMART” Specific, Measurable, Acheivable, Realistic and Timely—the list maker in me LOVES an acronym! But, they didn’t all meet this criteria.
It gets confusing. One of my goals was to “improve my yoga practice”—ok, that meets like none of the SMART guidelines. But, I completely rationalized this because when I put specifics on something like that—“I want to practice at least four times a week” or “I want to get into a tripod headstand” I find that actually negates some of the beauty of the yoga. Also, I’m supposed to be gentle with myself and getting mad at myself for not getting to practice yoga seems both counterintuitive and just plain dumb. So, I gave myself some grace on the goals and made them specific but not so much that I felt like they were strangling me—see how I outsmarted vulnerability there? Winning.
I womaned up enough to write down the goals just after the New Year, because, I’m clearly a giant cliché. You guys, it took me a minute, it was not easy, I definitely had all the feels putting pen to paper. (Yes, I wrote them down in my planner because I am a hundred years old and still use pens and a paper planner—don’t judge!) After that little exercise was over, I felt very relieved and also like I was on top of my self-development game. I did the thing that scared me, I’m facing fear in the face –go me! Then I promptly ignored them and never looked back at them for two months. Now, during this two month period I was aware they were there. I carefully avoided the front portion of my planner where they lived because I’m a multifaceted person who is self-evolved and practices avoidance—it’s a gift.
Well, here, dear reader, is where the surprise comes in. On the last day of February, when I was actually feeling a bit lost and floundering—“What am I doing with my life?” “What do I want to be when I grow up?” “Do these kids have any coping skills?” “Why can’t I mange to take the 486 bags of donations I have to the charity drop-off?’ for some reason unbeknownst to me (thanks Universe!) I turned to the page of goals. I’m sure I was looking for more fuel for my pity fire, but that’s not what happened. Guess what? I had accomplished or was on the brink of accomplishing quite a few! Trust me, no one was more surprised than me. I am still surprised. I really can’t explain it.
Some of the goals were closely related to some of the BS worries that kept playing on repeat in my head. When I looked back and realized that I was actually making progress I felt a runner’s high (ok, I don’t personally know what that feels like, but I have an imagination and empathy—so, work with me). It was like looking at some of my fears and anxieties and telling them “suck it fears and anxieties! I’m not even half as afraid of you as I was because, I’m dominating you—like you’re my cabana boy and I need another mojito—make it quick, dominating you.” (I would like to go on record to say that I will always judge people for the way they treat anyone in a service industry, so be nice to cabana boys, that was just a colorful simile to prove a point.) But, truthfully, looking at that list didn’t make me feel badly about myself, it made me feel empowered. It gave me perspective.
Perspective is a wonderful and often elusive thing that I battle with on a daily basis:
Me: I’m supposed to bring in cupcakes for the Valentine’s party at school. I’ll have to make them from scratch, buy the silicone baking forms shaped like hearts, offer two colors so that no gender is offended and we promote gender equality/neutrality—look up the politically correct term there, don’t want to offend any first graders, get sprinkles, also sugar, look for cute cupcake wrappers—they must have those. This will ensure my child knows I love and care for them.
Perspective: Child does not care if cupcakes are black, blue, made on the side of the road with rancid ingredients, child just wants to eat a cupcake. Also, child does not associate said cupcake with love or caring, only a sugar high. Also, apply all previous statements to other first graders.
Often times, while in the midst of something perspective is your savior. It literally pulls you out of your funk/crazy/panic mode/downward spiral. In this case, looking back at the goals I had written down provided me with the bigger picture. Had I achieved them all? Hell to the no. I hadn’t even thought about some of them since writing them down (but, that was kind of a good reminder too). I wasn’t able to cross them off the list or say goal achieved (I imagine when that happens it will be in the voice of James Earl Jones inside my head—I feel like it deserves some fanfare in my inner monologue)—but, I was able to acknowledge that I have been doing the things. As my pal Dory says, “just keep swimming.” I have been swimming and maybe some days it’s been in a hurricane with riptides, but I’ve been showing up. Maybe I haven’t made it as far as I’d like, but I’ve made progress and that, my friends, is something! So, thanks, perspective and SMART goals for all the pushes toward the water. I will keep swimming.