Alas, I was transfixed....when i finally began to grasp the innate power of setting one´s own goals.
How powerful I felt, that I could write and craft a precious list of life goals, that I could hold tightly and recite aloud daily, and often.
It was liberating....it was the ultimate flex, to emancipate myself....from my own meandering. To harness my artistic soul and force it to form itself into something resembling direction and ambition....and dare, I say......a career.
That was many years ago. Many goals later..... I proudly was able to assign a few large check marks and gloat at my accomplishments.
To be able to say....with some authority...¨I am going to do this, by this date....." and actually mean it and believe it was possible........was and still is an intoxicating drink.
But now, friends, I also must speak of the horrors of goal setting.
The biggest disappointment of writing down my life goals, was that it was simply not whimsical at all. I had always danced through life....both literally and figuratively......enjoying the surprises and emotional roller coaster that is the common experience of most Canadian women.
I liked not knowing what was coming around the bend. I liked not knowing who I was going to meet. I liked not knowing what I was going to earn. I liked not knowing what I was going to eat.
To then, do a sharp personal turn and declare that I would control my every move in life....in order to accomplish a list of written goals......was, on a certain level.....an unspeakable horror.
How would God surprise me.....if He wasn´t on my list? How would I fit my family onto my rather lengthy list of personal goals? How would my children´s journeys fit into my own rather complex list of written goals?
Must I always be rewriting my list of goals when I uncover yet another delight in life, that I had not yet written down on paper? How do I include my husband and my friends on this battle weary list? Did they even want to be trapped into my favorite font?
Lord, I do not have the answers. When I think I have the answers.....I feel that the books I must write are many....too many to utter....too thick to describe.
Lord Jesus, how do I dance through life....if I must write every line upon a list? There are no brownie points for the big green check marks on my list. There is only the personal satisfaction....of a fait accompli.
And so now, having uttered these horrid truths...I must run and hide....for I fear I have betrayed....my best friend.....my list.
C,
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