Back before I published my first book in the traditional publishing world, I had erroneous ideas about what publishing would mean. I thought, for example, that when the first book launched into the world, I would have “arrived.” I would have “made it.” I would have joined the world of…well, it was vague, what that glamorous world of Published Author looked like.
Nothing really changed. I had some launch parties, I signed some books, and I wrote my next book. I did not become famous (not that I would want to be famous—although name recognition, at least, would be nice). I did not move up an income bracket. I did not earn fewer arguments with and tantrums from my children.
I could have let myself feel disappointed. Let down. Betrayed by a dream I’d had since I was four and read my first book all by myself. But I moved on.
That’s the thing about goals: their end point keeps changing. Especially when they’re muddied up by unrealistic expectations.
Once upon a time, I had a goal to become a published author. Then I had a goal to be a doubly published author (meaning, two books out in the world). Then I realized I needed to start making better goals.
It’s good to have quantifiable goals—this many products sold, this many words written in a day, this grade on a test or a project, this much money saved in a month. You can “arrive” at the endpoint of these goals. The endpoint may not look anything like you thought it would. Maybe it looks exactly like you thought it would. But you’re still not finished, not by a long shot.
That’s part of our purpose in life—the unfinished business. The open-ended goals. “Just keep swimming,” as Dory says. Keep creating. Keep working to make the world a better place. Keep being you.
The hardest goals to define are the stretchy ones. Stretchy goals are the ones that keep changing. Growing with us. The ones that never seem finished, no matter how long or hard we work on them.
Stretchy goals can be like my “Become a better writer every book I write.” Or “Make better financial decisions.” Or “Eat cleaner today than I did yesterday.”
There’s this concept in yoga (or at least I was introduced to it in my yoga practice) of becoming one percent better. Be one percent better today than you were yesterday—in money decisions, with your work, when you’re eating, when you’re being a friend or a sibling or a parent. “One percent better” is a stretchy goal.
The best goals, in my opinion, are the ones that have no exact arrival point, either because the end goal keeps stretching or because the end goal is unquantifiable. Like the goal of improvement. How do you know when you have “arrived”? We will never be perfect.
It’s really more about the journey than the end goal, anyway. The journey to our goal is what shapes us and makes us who we are.
Rainer Maria Rilke, one of my favorite poets, famously said, “Live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
We live the journey, and we might eventually find the arrival gate. Or not.
Some of my current “journeys” or “stretchy goals”
1. Fuel my body better.
As a person who has struggled with anorexia for most of my life, I don’t have a great relationship with food. I’m not sure if I ever will. But I keep this as one of my stretchy goals, because I might not ever be healed completely—many former anorexics struggle with food their entire lives—but that does not mean I’m not making progress along the journey. One percent better tomorrow than I was today—and if I slip up again, I start again, too.
2. A better relationship with money.
I worry about money. A lot. Part of this (or maybe most of it) stems from my childhood, growing up in a family that did not have a lot of money, sometimes needed government help, and almost never had extra for savings or spontaneous meals out—at least not until I was almost all grown up. This past, coupled with anxiety, means I stress about money more times than not. I want to work on having a better relationship with money—which, to me, means not worrying so much when a surprise cost pops up—because they’re always popping up. It means keeping a budget and yet not stressing over the numbers. It means saying yes to the spontaneous meal out every once in a while. One percent better.
3. Caring for myself better.
As a mom, I typically let myself get rundown trying to see to the needs of all my children. And then I rarely have time to recharge. But I am on a journey to find moments here and there when I can meditate, do yoga, or sit and read for two minutes, five minutes, maybe a luxurious ten minutes. The biggest part of this? Not feeling guilty for taking time to myself. One percent better tomorrow.
