Years ago during an autumnal creative retreat in southern Minnesota, my friend cracked open a worn leather-bound notebook, revealing her “10 goals in 10 years” list.
As she carefully walked me through her list, I thought about how often I discarded and redrafted my goals—sometimes multiple times throughout the year.
I almost had to laugh.
Surely she couldn’t be serious with this list, right?
But she was.
And only a few years in, she was already well on her way to a perfect score.
Mind you, these weren’t small goals, either.
She wrote down things like buying a house, becoming a mother, starting a business, and learning new skills that take years to master.
Some of the goals seemed out of her control, and yet they were crossed off one by one.
The secret to her goal setting seemed to rest in her ability to envision an in-between future—something further than a year but shorter than a lifetime.
An in-between future may not feel like it’s within immediate reach, but at a moment’s notice, it can feel as if it could be—and that’s what’s so intoxicating about it.
Shortly after we talked, I decided to create my own ten-year goal list.
Yes, right there on the spot.
My initial plans consisted of re-reading Big Magic on the patio while drenched in sunlight with my phone turned off. But goal setting seemed like a more productive way to use the retreat, so I thought I’d try my friend’s method and focus on the in-between future.
It was dreadful.
The whole exercise made me feel untethered rather than inspired, leaving me with a plan I would surely scrap in a few months.
I spent most of the time blankly staring at the page, willing my brain to come up with a fresh vision for my life, but revelation never came.
So I left my in-between future in the rear view as we traveled home from the retreat.
Today, I couldn’t tell you a fraction of the goals I set during the retreat.
The list must be buried somewhere in a tattered journal. I might have looked at them once before placing the papers in my drawer.
If I had to guess, I probably wrote down things like finding a partner, getting married, and buying a home—all things I’ve done since then.
But now I think about the things that should have been on my list: going to therapy, observing a weekly Sabbath, taking time off to grieve an unexpected loss, and incorporating an energized puppy into my schedule.
These weren’t on my radar at the time, but oh how essential they’ve become!
While the allure of accomplishment and self-improvement remains, I’ve come to realize how little I know about my in-between future. And I’m finally okay with it.
Now, when friends tell me their five-year and ten-year goals, I smile.
Whether their goals stay the same or evolve, whether they’re checked off in chronological order or become a distant memory, I celebrate them all the same.
A moment to reflect
How do you feel about goal setting? What emotions come up when talking about your goals?
I'm so glad that you're talking about this, and this post brought me so much comfort. As a former serial goal-setter I learned with time (and a lot of therapy 🙃) that my 10-year plan was tethered to my ego and not at all my authentic self. It's been nice to take my foot off of the gas and accept life as it comes, and now, I can't image going back to how I was. Thank you for your words ❤️