Goals stink so says I. Why? Because you can’t just order them off a menu like they don’t belong to you. In order for them to work, they have to mean something. While placing your mouth watering want with the waiter in front of you might feel like a big deal – the reality is once the food is gone so is the meal.
A goal has to has to be rooted in a yearning in order for you to keep going. Lets face it, none of us would tread through snow up to our knees with our cheeks, ears and nose screaming cold from the wind, unable to see more than three feet in front of us if we didn’t believe that the promised warm cabin just 100 metres away wasn’t really there. We just wouldn’t do it – well, we wouldn’t do it by choice.
Goals are choices.
Goals are destinations.
Goals are stakes in the earth, in our mind, and on our calendars.
Goals are decisions.
This morning I set a bunch of mine in motion because I put them to the page. I’ve been self-employed for almost three decades and goals make me nauseous and angry now, yet try as I might I can’t seem to ditch the word. When I pick up my pen and my auto-pilot goal-setter kicks in, she writes: My Goal for TinaOLife…. My Goal for LYBS…. My Goal for my Network Marketing Business… My Goal for Me…
Man oh man… I just can’t ditch the word goal even though I don’t believe in them.
I believe in story.
I believe in walking.
I believe in direction fueled by a yearning.
and then I walk. as I listen. as I follow and lead, and move in the direction of the story of which I’ve chosen to be the main character.
I just keep walking.
Where do you walk? Why? Do you care? Are you willing to?