I am a total list maker. I think its an affliction, sitting alongside my obscene book-buying.
For the first time ever I didn’t make resolutions this year. And by resolutions, I don’t mean stuff like ‘eat healthier’ or ‘start going to the gym three times a week’; they’re more just things I’d quite like to do during the year. I don’t berate myself if they don’t happen, I don’t take them very seriously, but I do like to look back and reflect on what my goals were and whether they happened. Sometimes I surprise myself with the things I never thought would happen, happening, and the things I thought would, not happening.
Anyway, for whatever reason, this year I didn’t. And while I’m still making plenty of lists, I haven’t really been setting myself goals like normal. Until last week, when at therapy she asked me what my goal was for the week, and I said I don’t know (really just to be belligerent; because I wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions). But then we were talking, and I told her of something I was going to try to do and she smiled and said she thought she’d found my goal for the week.
And, I did it. The first half at least, sending forms off, and as soon as I got it back yesterday I did the second part today.
And then I thought I want to do more weekly goals. They’re not necessarily big things, but just stuff I’d like to do this week. Really I suppose they’re self-care tasks a lot of the time. A reason to do stuff that is supportive to me. This week’s, for example, is to open up my sketchbook, just see how it feels, as I haven’t drawn in ages.
I like little goals like this. They make me feel good (coz I’m a simpleton like that 😉) when I do them, and I don’t get mad at myself when they don’t happen. It just is what it is. Very relaxed goals.