A Different Approach to Setting Goals

Pitfalls of Traditional Goal-Setting

SMART goals are clear and prescriptive. I’m sure you’ve been through one of these exercises at work, you know, Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, and Timebound. SMART goals are clean and tidy with no little ambiguity. To set SMART goals, you research, plan, and execute. Assuming you ever get out of research mode and can keep your momentum up, they can work.

What’s the opposite of a SMART goal? A dumb one?

I don’t think so—though the acronym (and millions of management consultants) would suggest there is only one right way.

The opposite of something specific and measurable is nebulous and unquantifiable. And that feels a bit more like real work and life to me.

Why mention it?

Thinking Forward to 2021

Thankfully, this is the last day of 2020. Even in a year without as much furniture overturned, many of us use this time to think about how we want to arrange our next year. As the future-focused, strategic planning consultant type that I am, I love this time of year—it’s just the bigger version of the first of the month, Mondays, and 9am. We get to zero out the scoreboard and start again.

I started my 2021 goals a couple of weeks ago to imagine a new normal and an escape 2020 for a few hours. As usual, I have things dropped into each of a couple of buckets- health, family, work, etc.

One of those is coaching. I want to coach.

Build My Coaching Business

Through the AU program and hours of practice over the last year, I’ve delighted in this new-to-me professional skill. I’ve found coaching useful to myself and others. And while that might sound uninspiring and underwhelming, that utility provides me a sense of purpose and impact. It’s also a privilege and a challenge to be trusted so deeply.

So, I’m all in. Helping people by building that part of my business is absolutely one of my goals.

However, I don’t yet know exactly what that looks like. Researching the options feels risky in its potential to be a big, fat waste of time. When I’m starting something new (and a little scary), the uncertainty at the beginning is distracting. It becomes a way to hide- to avoid doing real work until I feel more sure. Potential delays aside, attempting to plan with any specificity would require layering assumptions on assumptions about who, what, when, and how much.

A Different Approach

Instead, I’m trying something else. I committed to the end- to help people through coaching.

That commitment requires continual motion in that direction. It’s head up, eyes open scanning for that next handhold I can use to pull myself through. It’s navigating by the night sky instead of with a map.

So, my plan won’t look SMART. I’ll write stuff down because that’s part of my journaling practice. But it’ll be mostly opportunistic-- week to week, day to day, one shift and turn at a time.

How will I know if I’m making progress? I’ll reflect and note how coach-y I’m feeling. This work is as much becoming (who we are) as it is serving and performing (what we do.)

What have you been wanting to do without knowing where to start?

All the Christmas-y Feelings

Linc came into the kitchen late afternoon and said, “This may have been the best Christmas ever.”

It wasn’t over yet for me but he couldn’t care less about wontons, ham, glazed carrots, mashed potatoes, and leftover birthday cake. At 3:48 pm he was calling it.

That kid speaks from his 6-year-old’s heart, unfiltered. And he was right. It had been a pretty damn good Christmas by all objective measures—we are all healthy, we are surrounded by family- even at a distance, our fridge is FULL, and we had the resources to gush gifts all over each other.

Baya was busy as she is. She’d already crushed through several of her new art projects and had moved onto handstand practice.

Then there was Marin. At nearly 10, she either hasn’t caught on to the Santa secret or is still playing along. Remember many of us were double agents at this age— delighted to solve a mystery, afraid to disappoint our parents, and hedging our bets just in case we did, in fact, need to believe to receive.

With that aside, there was a little clinginess that flipped quickly to sass with a lot of flopping around on the couch announcing her boredom.

She’s catching on to a bigger, grown-up truth.

The stuff doesn’t fill all the holes.

You can get everything on your list and still feel something’s missing. You can be in a heap of loving family and still feel lonely. You can be sad while you’re singing, hungry when you’re stuffed with cookies and not know what you want to do in a room jammed with screens, games, and puzzles.

You can want something you don’t know and can’t say.

What I want her to know is that that’s okay.

I shoot for feeling happy about 50 percent of the time—and I think I’m a really happy person! All other feelings are accepted though they’re sometimes inconvenient and require regular maintenance.

Believing you’re supposed to be happy makes it worse. This is true only on Christmas and the other 364 days of the year.

I also want her to know that we don’t manifest the “stuff” (the presents, people, food, decorations, etc.) to be happy. We do it to put a stake in time. We do it in gratitude and to acknowledge others. We do it to speed up then slow down. We do it to break up our daily rituals and create a couple of weeks of novel, sparkly beauty.

Putting the “stuff” in its place makes space for all feelings to pass through without bumping into pumped up expectations.

Wait a second. This wasn’t supposed to be a sad story. From my perch, I saw her happiness in….

• coaxing dad to wake up to check and see if Santa came (an annual game),

• coaxing the puppy to bring the ball back just once while a few stray snowflakes fell in the yard,

• eating a big Hershey’s Kiss for breakfast dessert (new, temporary meal category),

• figuring out the laser tag guns first, then turning against Mom and Linc, and

• creating a funky new hairstyle, comparing tiny LOL accessories with her sister, and eating self-made wontons out of the new taco-saurus.

So she’s good. I’m good. We’re all good. And Linc said it. It may have been the best Christmas ever.

I'm 46 and Ready for Round Two

Today’s my 46th birthday but I’ve been telling others I was 46 all year. Turns out I was 45 all along.

This came to light a couple of weeks ago during a mini argument with my dear friend who is 10 months younger. I overheard her tell someone else she was 44. I butted in with a quick correction, “No, you’re 45.” She shot back with, “No, I’m 44. You’re 45.”

After some quick math on my phone (to be sure), I conceded.

So here I am 46 with a year’s worth of experience. I feel prepared- lucky even. In a way, I’m granting myself a 2020 do-over.

If all that wasn’t confusing enough, I feel 28 in my head. It’s not the mentality of a child, not a college student groping for the meaning of life, but not 46 either. Sometimes passing through my dining room on the way to the kitchen, I get a flash reminder of my responsibilities- the kids, the dogs, the house, the job…

Who thought it was okay to let me take care of all this stuff?

I know I’m not alone in this disconnect. I was a little kid at my Aunt Carol’s 40th birthday party. My grandmother was bouncing from person to person asking (part humor and part sincere wonder), “How do I have a 40-year-old!?” “How do I have a 40-year-old!?” “How do I have a 40-year-old!!!???”

I didn’t get it. The little 8-year-old sass in my head was, like, “Um because you’re an old lady. That’s how.”

Now, I totally get it.

Anyway, so here I am. Buckled in for 46 part deux.

I can’t wait. Really. Because all those responsibilities are blessings for which I am immensely grateful.

It’s going to be a great year. I can feel it.

Keep it Simple Sweetheart

I’m always intrigued by the question, What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?

It’s commonly asked by motivational speakers to coax us out of our cozy comfort zones. Over the years, I’ve noticed that fear of failure isn’t what holding me back. It’s the fear of feeling overwhelmed.

For me, the state of overwhelm is paralyzing. Often one good idea balloons into something both magical and completely unmanageable in minutes. Imagining the possibilities, I struggle to focus. I can’t pick a starting point. So, I don’t. Too often, I just stay in planning mode. I add things to my list to feel productive while I procrastinate.

So, for me, the better question is: What would you do if you knew you could keep it simple?

And simple doesn’t mean small or less than. It means picking one or two ways to get from A to B. It means not fretting over making the “right” decision when the right decision is an unknowable thing. It’s remembering that the only wrong move is nothing at all.

“Keep it simple” is the directive I’ve given myself as I build my coaching practice. It’s remembering that my goal is to coach. It’s about doing the work I love. It’s hitting the core of what matters most to me- walking side by side with someone as they search, find, and move towards what they want most.

I’ll know I’m stuck when I stop. That’s my signal to comb out the tangles and take things off the list. And simply start again.

When its harder to stop than start

Now, it’s harder not to run. Nearly every day for 24-ish years. Shoes on, I go.

All these years I didn’t really think of myself as a runner. Real runners are fast. I’m slow. I’m out there for a half dozen reasons- only one of which is exercise.

Maybe if I ran without podcasts? Maybe if I focused on the sound of my breath in time with my footfalls? Maybe if I added track workouts? Maybe if I monitored my pace with something more than mild curiosity? Would that make me a “real” runner. Maybe.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. I’m in a new running phase. At nearly 46 years, I can confidently claim runs as “my” time and notice when I’m chasing someone else’s definition of good enough.

With all that swirl, I love the discipline that comes with setting a distance goal. Right now, that’s the 50K. 10 weeks into training, 10 weeks to go.

I love the spreadsheet my husband (and coach) put together.

I love talking with him about it.

I love setting out my clothes with more intention and anticipation before long runs.

I love the 2-finger waves from familiar faces on the trail.

I love the red fox scooting across my path and the hawk watching from above.

I love starting. And I love being done. I’m growing to love all the emotions in between.

I love not quitting- even when I’m really tired.

I love feeling like a runner.

Garden Variety Fear and Laziness

Every spring I get excited about our garden. Then, my true fickle nature sets in.

I’m in when buying seeds and seeds while envisioning salads made of rainbows. Then, I’m out between planting and sprouting. In when the first leaves of kale are smoothie ready. Out waiting for itty bitty peppers and tomatoes to turn red. In again when fixing that first Caprese salad. And, so on. (Luckily, Brian’s steady eddy nature keeps the garden growing in between.)

By October, I’ve lost interest completely.

A combination of fear and laziness (what had I planted and what would I do with it???!!!) had me neglecting these until, um, just yesterday. December 21st – a date when no respectable vegetable should still be hanging out hoping to be picked.

Passing the garden on the way back in after taking another load of flattened cardboard boxes to the curb, curiosity took over and I couldn’t help it. I pulled these up thinking I’d quickly leave them there to compost themselves.

But I was so intrigued by the funky, funky shapes and colors I had to keep and cook them. I thought they were carrots until I got them cleaned up a bit. Parsnips!

I ended up roasting them and making a cashew yogurt dip with the mint that is still spreading and going strong. It was really good. Really.

This late harvest didn’t do much to encourage me to be a more consistent gardener next year.

However, it does make me wonder what else will thrive on neglect?

Thoughts on Loop

This morning, I’m part running mom, part ninja, part mental freak-o. You’ll see what I mean below.

Do you ever watch your thoughts? Please just say yes. Heading out for my run this morning, I thought I’d pay attention a little. The thought quality is unimpressive, the randomness startling. Here’s the gist.

I’m ready. Wait. Where are my headphones? Feeling good. Going to have a great run. Have a great run! I should have figured out my podcast before. I’m wasting time. I’m going to be so late coming back. It’ll be fine. It’s fine. Ow. What was that on my ankle? I’m fine. It’s fine. I feel fine. No, I feel good. It’s good. I’m good. Road looks flat but actually a hill. So annoying. They did this to me on purpose. Just turn already. No, you go. Just go. Fine, I’ll go. Yes, I’m overdressed. I just like being warm…………………………………..Who eats Arby’s? This podcast isn’t doing it. I’m not switching. Mile 1, average pace 10’52”. I

’m slow. I’m so slow. And I had all that cake yesterday. That should have helped, right? Cute dog. Why don’t my dogs walk so nicely? We need training. I should buy some hotdogs. What should I put the hotdogs in while we’re walking? Those chairs have been out there for, like, 4 days lady. No one wants them. How long should you leave something out before accepting that no one wants it? Like, a week maybe? I don’t know. That heater has been out by our trash for a while. Mile 2, average pace 10’40”.

That’s better. I hate how my fingers smell after touching hotdogs. What does Arby’s even make? Fries. Maybe curly fries. I love curly fries. Giant was out of Little Bites. I need to make Linc some muffins. Do we have enough muffin papers? I should have ordered backups………………………………. Another hill. Is it possible this run is more uphill than down…………………………(think hard on that for a few minutes)………….Ashley said heels down, shoulders back. Mile 3, average pace 11’03”.

That fine, I needed to switch to music. I don’t know how to bait a hook either. I should learn. Fishing is an important skill. Just in case. How’d that fork get there? I’m feeling great. Spit, snot rocket. This is why I need to run alone. I am so gross. This is great. I could keep going for, like, a while. How did this much dog fur get on my pants? I had them on for, like, 6 totally minutes in the house. I need to vacuum. I need to make a list when I get back. What do I feel like wearing today? Something stretchy. I’m not washing my hair. Mile 4, average pace 11’14”.

Damn. Not sure what happened there. I’m so slow. But, I’m feeling good. I have no injuries. It’s probably because I’m so slow. I should just stay slow. Heels down, shoulders. Shoulders!............................So, definitely something stretchy. I haven’t worn that green sweatshirt in a while. I love that thing. Okay, that makes me happy. I have something to look forward to. I can’t run with other people. I’m too gross. I think I make more mucus than other people. No one needs to see that. That sweatshirt. How did that ball get there? Where’s orange shirt guy? ………………………………..Why does he always hold his shirt up in the middle like that? It’s like some kind of running blankie for him. Shoulders. Mile 5, average pace 10’18”.

Damn. Feeling good. Glad I’m almost done. Why am I not done? What are the kids doing? I didn’t see the oldsters today. Siren, siren, siren. Hope everyone’s okay. What could have happened this early? Should I have oatmeal? I’ll have oatmeal. Just one more street and then I’m done. I’m so done. If this bitchy Fitbit says “time to hydrate” I’m going to… I don’t know. I just hate that shit. I’m done. Woohoo. I feel so awesome. I smell. Ew. Not fit for human consumption. Fitbit says, “5 and done.” That’s right. I’m done.

Alaska Day 13: Headed Home

Our travel day home started really early. Both girls had their virtual “meet the teachers” at 5 and 5:30am local time.

This ended up being a good thing because it got them moving and us out of the house ontime for the airport.

The day was completely uneventful.

More silliness on the phone, lot of plane snacks, and finally arriving safely in DC at 9:30pm-  wonderful trip.

Alaska Day 12: Our first and last sunset

12 days in, we’d yet to stay up late enough to see the sun go down. On our last day, we made it as a result of having a pretty easy day, finally acclimating to the time change, and more binge-watching Alone after dinner.

But let me back up. We’d arrived back in Anchorage the night before. By design, this last full day was going to be pretty chill. We had a lazy morning. Brian made pancakes, we did some laundry, and got Linc dialed into his virtual “meet the teacher.”

We then walked over to Pablo’s Bike Rental. It’s hugely popular on Trip Advisor- and for good reason. Pablo, the shop owner, is an engaging, sweetheart of a guy. He and “mini Pablo” (his affectionate term for the younger guy working in the shop) got us set up.

Anchorage has this fantastic run/bike/walk trail, the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail—very much like the W&OD. It’s this relatively flat trail along the Cook Inlet and Turnagain Arm. It wasn’t too busy and allowed us to see some of the city and look out over the water.

They have a couple of cool spots along the way to learn about the 1964 earthquake and a spot at the end of the airport runway. (Marin cannot be seen in any of these videos because she’s out in front and won’t risk giving up her lead.)

When we got back, we got hot dogs at Pablo’s twin brother’s stand next door- the International House of Hot Dogs—also apparently winning awards for fantastic-ness.

After lunch, the kids played on the playground with some found friends. To end the day, we had dinner- and my final beer flight- at 49th State Brewing. Linc and Brian got it a couple rounds of corn hole while the girls played giant Connect 4. It was a gorgeous evening.

Catching the sunset around 10:30pm was the perfect way to end the trip.

Things I want to remember:

• Baya and Linc so happy to make quick friends on the playground and play hide and seek for more than an hour.

• A gorgeous night to eat outside and play games

• Catching the sunset over the water

Alaska Day 11: "It couldn't be funner"

You know when you think something is going to fun but than it’s, like, even better than you imagined? That was our ATV tour outside of Denali.

We had two vehicles- a 2-seater and a 3-seater. So, obviously we needed the kids to divvy themselves up. I was SURE I was going to lose this popularity contest. So, I was glad and relieved when someone (Linc) chose to ride with me.

After a brief review of the rules and an even briefer lesson on how the ATV worked, we were asked to drive a short test path. Make it through and you’re good to go. If not, well…

So in the way that she does, Marin says, “Mom, please don’t mess this up.” With that little pep talk, Linc and I were off down the 25 foot course. I’m happy to report I got a big thumbs up from the manager.

As we started down the trail, I’d offer to Linc, “bump coming” “ooh, bump ahead” “bumpity bump” before realizing the entire thing was bumps and I should just save my breath. A couple minutes later I asked him, if it was too bumpy. Linc says, “It’s bumpy but it couldn’t be funner.”

And then we saw a bull moose. Linc squealed. His whole little body seemed to be bursting with excitement.

It just got better from there. It was crazy terrain.

We stopped 4 or 5 times for a break and to take in the view. The guides- a couple from San Diego- were just sweet and encouraging and had a ton of information on the history of the land, plants, animals, and rocks.

I would have never really thought to do this, but it was a ridiculously good time. Much joy all around.

After that, we got Subway. So there was more happiest for the kids who were tired of eating PB&J and granola bars.

We then started the 4-hour drive back to Anchorage and did something so totally normal—placed a Papa Johns pizza order on the app. More delight from the backseat.

Once here in town, we checked into our final AirBnB- a funky but charming mid-century modern place right on the water. We explored a bit and played on the playground before watching more Alone and getting to bed.

Things I want to remember:

• Driving the riverbed in the ATV with the kids beaming

• More silliness with the “Wolf King” making an appearance in the backseat during the long drive

• Running through the house that felt like a mansion compared to our last hotel room