The previous post reminded me of my goal sheet that I typed just a few weeks after my ex left. I went looking for it, and found it in my folder labeled, “July disasster.” When I wrote these goals, I was still mired in the yuck of the day to day, but I wanted to put my dreams out there. I posted this list above the folding card table in my friend’s bonus room that was to be my office for the next year. It kept me focused on the future and the gifts in my present on those days when I felt like giving up. The list now makes me smile. It shows me how far I have come and reminds me of where I was.
There are two items on the list that remain unchecked. The first, complete a book, was a bit ambitious for a year (or even three), but it is an ongoing project. The other, volunteer at an animal rescue organization was chosen because of my gratitude towards those who helped to find homes for my dogs. I don’t feel strong enough yet to face this one, but I will.
Some of the other goals seem so minimal in retrospect. Go on a date – I went on 7-8 dates a week for a few months (months I dubbed, “Match Madness”). Or, learn to cook one gluten-free meal – I now do that multiple times a week and am a recipe resource for others.
Some of the goals make me thankful for where I am and why I am here. I was originally going to move to the NW; I could not imagine a life in the same town where I had spent my married years. Just months before I was going to leave, I met my now boyfriend. There was enough potential there that I decided to commit to staying in the area for a year (once I found a job) to see how things progressed. It has now been two years, and I couldn’t be happier.
Other goals have been incorporated into my current life. I still set goals to run races (I’ve just raised the bar a bit), I still intentionally seek out new friends, I continue to find ways to act of character, and I still make sure to take weekend trips. The last goal has become my favorite: find a way to laugh each and every day.
I no longer have goals posted above my desk. I have internalized them, using them as a daily reminder to be thankful and hopeful.