I love structure. I am comfortable with making vague goals, because I know that as soon as I voice them, I already have structures in mind for achieving them that don’t necessarily come through in words. But if, like me, you are interested in improving your reading diversity, choosing products that are both better quality and produced by better business practices, and ridding yourself of all the clutter/debris/extraneous mess that you have stashed in your home, here are a few more structured ways to do that.
Modern Mrs. Darcy’s 2017 reading challenge. I like that she has reading for fun and reading for growth challenges. I also love her highly organized tips (including printables) for tracking your reading and that she offers the chance to join an online book club for those who want social support.
Book Riot’s Read Harder challenge is my favorite challenge for finding things to read that I never would have read before. They, too, offer social support via their Facebook group and give you the opportunity to meet in person with people you’ve met via the challenge. Bonus – discount on an order if you finish the challenge!
Inc.com praises ThirdLove bras. I NEED ONE. Also Thinx, which has great ramifications for women in countries where feminine hygiene products aren’t readily available. A lot of people have tried them and sing their praises (even though the HuffPo article says “total disaster,” indicating that the chooser of that title doesn’t understand what the words total and disaster mean), so I’ll spare you my personal recap when I try them. Unless they’re terrible, which I don’t anticipate.
And bonus – for those hoping to up your donations to charities this year, here are some tips from Consumer Reports on how to choose a charity that uses the money in the way they claim to use it.
If you were looking for structure to some of your goals, hope this helps!
I have a stocking that’s mine (on the right) and a stocking that’s a reminder that I’m not alone in the world. This is the first decoration I put up every year, and it’s my favorite. I like starting the season with the hope that life will not inevitably always be the way it’s always been.
I love this time of year. I love the invigoration of setting new goals. I am nervous about this year because of the political climate, but I am refusing to give up hope. I am anxious, but I am determined. I am sad, but I am unwilling to settle for wallowing.
My goals for 2017 are pretty simple. Most of them are a continuation of things I’ve already started to do. Some of them are specific, but most of them are unruly, because the main goal is to embrace the wild.
Wild is my word for the year, and I want it to spread throughout my world like fire. I want to burn away all that is not true, beautiful, just, and good. I realize that’s a tall order, but I can’t very well start my year of wild by taming my expectations.
Read 100 books.
Learn conversational Spanish.
Continue to make my home a place that is welcoming and does not hinder the life I create. This life looks like cozy nooks and a well-stocked kitchen, pantry, and bar for spontaneous hospitality. This life looks like flowers on the table and blankets on the couch. This life looks like finally getting the last of the boxes unpacked from the move last summer.
Continue to improve my health and well-being. This will probably look like a significant weight loss. I have 22 more pounds to go to reach my birthday goal, but as – much to my chagrin – I no longer have the metabolism I had when I was twenty, this will probably look more like 15 pounds, which is still pretty great. This will also look like pearls in my ears, red on my lips, and cute shoes on my feet, as emotional well-being is often manifested in how I care for myself physically.
Finish at least one manuscript and publish a 2018 calendar.
Run a 5K.
Go on a writing retreat (can be alone or an official one with a group).
Get paid for writing in some way. This can be as simple as submitting a piece for publication and having someone say yes, but I want to see tangible proof that it’s something I can do.
Continue/establish beloved traditions. I want to have baking weekends. I want to have parties that people come to expect every year. I want to have traditions that are just mine – that embrace the single life I have now instead of waiting on other people to have traditions.
This is my favorite running shirt. I approve of anything that is simultaneously a Firefly fandom squee and a notification that I aim to kick ass.
As my one word for 2016, true has been brutal. Part of this brutality is that I thought it would be easy.
I’ll just pause a moment for everyone who knew better to stop laughing.
It hasn’t all been terrible. I have fine-tuned my life significantly to form it into something that is truer to who I am. That part has been invigorating. In some ways, I am significantly more at home in my life than I was a year ago.
All this change has been uncomfortable, however. I have discovered the sharp edges of certain aspects of myself that were only hazy forms in the back of my mind before, and they’re not all pretty. Some are upsetting. I’m not as honest with myself as I would have liked to think I was. Admitting that things are true about me that I desperately want not to be true is disheartening. And the process of deciding what to do with these realizations has been excruciating. It’s not finished, but I wish it were.
I’ve been reading through The Road Back to You for the last couple of months, and I wish I’d read it at the beginning of the year. I’m a One. I am a perfectionist and pretty hard on myself. True is the calling of the Ones – for our principles to 1) be high and right and 2) be congruent with our behavior/life/outcomes. The cognitive dissonance often created by this pursuit (as, alas, we are not perfect) is very stressful to us.
Stress is anger-making (although we prefer to call it “frustration”). It’s no wonder, therefore, that Ones are part of the Anger Triad (or as a friend affectionately calls it, the Chaos Trio). Rather than feeling the guilt I would have expected when I read this, I felt relief. It offered an explanation for my anger rather than the condemnation I’m used to receiving for it. It also confirmed my choice for my one word for 2017 – wild.
This coming year, I’m going to embrace the wild.
Wild is a natural progression from the last few years of beauty and fun and true. Wild encompasses them all and sets them free. That is exactly the kind of year I’d like to have. That is exactly the kind of year I insist on having, despite whatever effort the world might have to squelch it.
Wild abandon – I want to learn to hold resources, such as money and time, more loosely. I don’t want to treat them irresponsibly or in a way that is destructive, but I could stand to regard them less fearfully. I want to develop a practice of derailment. Half of what stresses me out when the news is especially terrible is how it derails my whole life. I even toyed momentarily with the notion of not reading so much news, but then I promptly dismissed said notion, because I know I’d be doing so in order to hide, thus thwarting my ability to be informed about how to pursue justice. So instead I want to embrace the derailment. To thrive within it. To stop worrying so much about it. And to definitely stop apologizing for it.
Wild survival – Wild things are obsessed with staying alive. They are acutely aware of dangers and how to avoid them. I want to pay closer attention to my survival instinct. I want to resist laziness and continue pursuing my health goals that I set last March. I want to take care of myself emotionally instead of ignoring warning signs until they become so tangible that they become a detriment to my well-being and productivity.
Wild liberation – My word for the year could just as easily be “free.” With all that threatens to oppress in this world, I want to be a force pushing in the opposite direction. I imagine this upcoming year will present many opportunities to do so.
This is just the beginning, but I am excited (and also terrified…three parts excited to one part terrified isn’t a bad ratio) to see what this year of wild brings.
Many things have been written (videoed, spoken, sung, interpretively danced) about how rough 2016 has been. Many of those things have been written here. So I’ll not rehash those. We have enough to worry about coming up.
My personal year has been pretty productive despite the challenges and heartbreaks of the world.
My major resolutions all fell under the umbrella of my word for the year – true. I’m going to talk a little more about that next week as I tie it into my word for 2017, but true was quite motivating. And really hard. I also made a list of twenty specific things I wanted to accomplish, only six of which I completed, but two of them were pretty big things, so it seems like I did more. True to character, I bit off more than I could chew, but I still ended up farther than I was a year ago. Progress, not perfectionism. I should make that my mantra.
This year’s accomplishments include:
Finding a new job and new place to live that are more in line with who I am, what I need, and what I’m good at
Starting a newsletter (second letter comes out tomorrow – subscribe here to get it!) and using the social media accounts I enjoy in a better way
Throwing my Hemingway party, which was a smashing success
Finish (most of) a 5K
Read a lot of books I loved
Things I would have liked to accomplish but didn’t include:
Reading a lot more books
Getting something I’ve written published
Regular piano playing and regular dancing (other than in my living room, of course, where the dancing was indeed rampant)
I feel pretty good about my year, especially given how much the world in general sucked.
When I think “true,” food with friends always comes to mind.
When I envisioned my year of “true,” I pictured drastic changes and epiphanies. I pictured having a lot of “A-ha!” and “Eureka!” moments. I resolved to embrace big moments of being who I am.
Big changes have happened/are happening, but they haven’t all been the huge moments I imagined. This, it turns out, is true to life for me as well.
In one week, I get to start moving over to my new place. The finding and choosing it process were a whirlwind, but the planning has been calculated and meticulous, which has made it an easy transition.
I started my new job, which was a big change, but also not. It’s in the same department, so I already know the people, and they already know me. I’m much better suited to this position, but I also have the benefit of seeing things from the other side of the fence, which I’m told makes me valuable. I’ll take it.
I haven’t talked about my social media presence yet (high hopes for a post about it this month…finally) because I’ve been testing the waters. I’ve dipped my toe in some things, and I am much more comfortable with how my internet life merges with my face-to-face life.
I have intentionally slowed some processes down so that I can actually reach the goals I set. One of my successes in this area has been in health. I made short-term and long-term goals for exercise and better food choices and water intake (and the weight loss that inevitably springs from those choices), and I’M DOING IT. I’m so excited about that. It’s amazing what setting reasonable goals will do. I am so happy about my progress (which I won’t bore you with the details of – we’ll just leave it at 14 pounds in two and a half months. Yippee!!) that I have stopped keeping up with the reward system for my short-term goals, because reaching the goal (things like 10, 25, 50 days of good hydration, exercise, good food choices, etc.) is its own reward.
What I would like to improve this summer are the “true to delight” resolutions. I want to read and cook more (once I get moved – until then, it’s salad and sandwiches, friends). I want to entertain again. I want to get back into my writing seasons rhythm (although I’m proud of the progress on Epic Meal Planning).
Isn’t this a pretty picture? Insert fella to sit here with. Also, RIP, Spats.
In keeping with my word for the year – true – and meeting resolutions, I’m doing pretty well. New job? Check. New place to live? Check (in June). There are many ways I’m making my life truer to who I am and where I want to go.
I have not had a proper date in…I don’t even remember when.
If I were design the perfect guy to sit on that porch with (because that’s how it works, right? You just put in your order?), he would have these five characteristics:
1. Charming – When I tell people I like charming men, they think Neal Caffrey on White Collar. But really? What I find most attractive about Neal is that he looks like Matt Bomer and dresses like a member of the Rat Pack. I don’t mean pleasantry designed to get you what you want. Not smarmy pseudo-niceness. If it has an easy on-off switch, it’s not charm – it’s manipulation.
Or Wash on Firefly. Or, for the most part, Xander on Buffy.
These characters have many differences, but the thing they have in common is that they say and do things that are 1) ADORABLE and 2) genuinely delightful. They’re not afraid to get excited about things, and they often go out of their way to be pleasant. When they give you a compliment, you know it’s sincere, because their only agenda is to encourage you (see every speech Xander ever gave. I mean – “You’re not special; you’re extraordinary.” That’s just a good friend.). And if you mention that they’re kind, they tend to brush it off. They’re not even looking for credit. They get blushy and nervous, and that’s charming, too.
2. Witty – I like funny people, and I find a lot of different things funny. Give me someone who can deliver a one-liner with panache, and I’m hooked. I want someone who makes me laugh so hard I cry. And they need to find me just as funny, because I’m a riot. Recognize.
3. Veering near the very liberal side of Christian – I’ve heard that it’s easier to make a life with someone who is going the same direction you are. This preference is more pertinent to a potentially long-term relationship than an afternoon coffee date (which technically, is all that this resolution requires, so that’s as far as my current commitment goes). But as long as I’m designing a dream guy, I might as well throw this in.
4. Musician – First, I get music. That alone would be enough. But musicians – particularly those who study music seriously or perform professionally – tend to have this particular kind of persnicketyness that I enjoy. I like the way their minds work. It’s mathematical in its precision. Also…music.
5. Ambivert – I have often said that I need to match with an extrovert, because if I’m with an introvert, we’ll pretty much never leave the house. Forget that you knew us – you’ll never see us again.
But I think I would prefer an ambivert. Someone who is extroverted enough that they need to be social on a regular basis for their sanity but also who is introverted enough that they’re ready to leave the party when I am (or within a half and hour of when I am. I can be reasonable…ish.). Someone who will encourage me to try new things and will gently pressure me to go dancing because they know I love it once I actually get there, but also will totally give in when I, with wild eyes that just cannot take any more socializing that day, say, “Let’s skip it, order a pizza, and binge-watch West Wing.” Give me someone who says yes to that.
So if you know this guy (and he’s single – because I do not share – and oriented toward the ladies – because I’d like to be his preference, too), send him along!
This week, I started my new job. It’s a welcome change, and I’ve been allowed to acclimate slowly (which is my very favorite way to acclimate). I even got to choose the office music yesterday (Ingrid Michaelson playlist, so basically we’re listening to the Grey’s Anatomy soundtrack. You’re welcome, office mates.). In mid-June, I move to my new home across town. This is also a welcome change, and I have a whole month to move. Change – even good change – stresses me out, but I am making these changes in the least stressful way possible.
This is a kindness and a blessing. There’s a lot of hope around lately.
Because I gotta be me, though, I still have anxious moments. I have gotten clutchy with the purse strings in the last couple of years, so dropping deposits and knowing my rent is going to increase so much *cough*notreallythatmuch*cough* in a couple of months is disconcerting. I couldn’t keep much of anything down and didn’t get much sleep the week that I signed the lease and gave notice that I was moving out from my current apartment. In the midst of immense relief, there still was anxiety. It wanted to be my best friend.
One night as I was watching the light on the ceiling change with the hours, exasperated, I breathed to God, “I’m going to trust you. I’m going to believe you that nothing has been forgotten or overlooked. I’m going to trust me. And I’m going to trust you to back me up.”
This is not the most faithful prayer I’ve ever prayed. It’s not quite the flying leap I used to make when I knew I had not thought the decision through and went ahead and made it anyway. I’ve thought this one through. I know it’s not all faith and hope. It’s mostly common sense and careful planning.
But the hope is important. The hope is what is making it possible to sleep and eat again.
Hope* kicks anxiety’s tail.
Hope is becoming my favorite change of all. I’ve missed it. I’m glad it’s back.
*and also the appropriate professional help and possibly meds. Get help when you need it. /public service announcement
I’ve been talking for what seems like forever about getting a new place to live that better suits me. This year, I listed it as one of my main goals.
Truthfully? I only half-expected to make it a reality. I’ve been talking about wanting it so long and not being able to make it happen that I only half-believed that I’d actually be able to pull it off.
That unbelieving half has to eat her words, because in June, I am moving to a new place! It has two bedrooms (instead of one) and two bathrooms (instead of one). My books and writing desk get their own room again, and guests won’t be subjected to my hair product arsenal when they need to visit the facilities.
Other happy features include:
washer dryer connections in a closet hidden off the kitchen instead of in the living room
single-story structure = all the benefits of a ground floor apartment with none of the drawbacks
a real neighborhood – no student housing structures
closer to my sister, my church, my grocery store, and walking distance from the north branch library with its book sales and bookshop (so I’m expecting the extra few miles to work will actually balance out)
city trash and recycling bins – goodbye, dumpster life!
I know my move-in date is well over a month away, but I’m so excited I’ve already started packing books.
For much of my life I have often been treated like the smartest person in the room. Whether or not I have been said person is highly debatable. But even when – especially when – I know I’m not, I like the challenge of this expectation. It motivates me to dream big and set go-for-the-gold, be-all-you-can-be, insert-your-favorite-inspiring-cliche-here goals. And can I meet them? Of course I can. I’ve been told my whole life that I can.
The downside to this is that I tend toward perfectionism. I can set ten lofty goals for the year, meet nine of them, and still feel like a complete failure because I missed one. That means I can’t be the smartest, because the smartest would not have missed that tenth goal. That one will haunt me. I will miss sleep over it. I will write long, whiny, navel-gazing blog posts, most of which I won’t actually post (you’re welcome), about it.
But that feeling? It’s not the truth. And I’m writing about it today not just because I need to hear it but because maybe you need to hear it, too.
Meeting goals – any goal – is not failure; it’s progress. It’s growth. It’s not losing ground or even remaining still; it’s moving forward.
[This is not to say that if you don’t maniacally set goals like I do that you’re stagnating. I’m sure you’re growing, too, even if you don’t have a compulsive need to document it.]
So when one of the activities in Beth Morey’s Your Fearless Year 2016 was to list twenty achievable but big and fearless goals, I was equal parts excited and scared to commit to that much of a plan. Okay – four parts excited, one part scared – my love for this list is pretty big. I’ve mentioned some of these already this year, but they’re all important to me.
The list:
1. Get a job (or a way to generate income) that is better suited to my strengths.
2. Move into a house (or again- a place that is better suited to me).
3. Finish a complete rough draft manuscript of at least one of my current works in progress.
4. Submit at least ten items (articles, poems, flash fiction, essays, or the aforementioned manuscript) for publication.
5. Read 100 books.
6. Start a newsletter.
7. Launch my writer website.
8. Choose and use social media outlets better (more coming soon on this).
9. Showcase coffee picture project in a public way (calendar? Book of poetry? Step one – choose a medium.).
10. Replace one worn-out or not-really-me item at my house per month. Late December/early January was a three-for-one deal – bedroom curtain, shower curtain, and a WIP shelf. I think the shelf is my favorite:
11. Send holiday cards with a picture I’ve taken myself.
12. Take a trip for fun.
13. Take a dance class.
14. Try one of the new crafts that my crafting friends have been inviting me to try.
15. Throw my Hemingway party (food that is simple and good – like Hemingway’s prose – and drinks laden with booze – like Hemingway).
16. Learn to speak better Spanish.
17. Find (or make) a place to play piano on a regular basis.
18. Go on a date.
19. Participate in a Couch-to-5K program (projected start – late May with a race on July 4th).
20. Take a cooking class. Possibly knife skills. Or cake decorating. Or overcoming chicken phobia (is that a thing that people teach? Because it should be.).
“The truth is a vast thing. I see that now – just how much truth there is. Where would we even begin?”
Root – Person of Interest
My word for 2016 is “true,” and it is indeed a vast, vast thing. I made a list of 20 goals as part of Beth Morey’s Your Fearless Year 2016 mini-course, and every one of them falls under some aspect of uncovering, discovering, or staying true.
And ever since I said yes to this word, I’ve had this song running through my head:
But that will go away soon. I hope.
Honestly, the word is a little overwhelming. What in the world have I gotten myself into?!
This year, I resolve to be true…
…to my calling. I will endeavor to act out of conviction and purpose rather than out of what someone requests or thinks that I should do. For example, there is a fine line between being a true support/accomplice to those who are oppressed, and performing for ally cookies like a pampered dog. There were a couple of times early last year when I crossed that line. It was gross. I still feel dirty and appalled at my behavior. I am offended to discover that this self-involved motivation is part of my personality, and I want to avoid such mistakes this year.
You may be disappointed if you don’t see me saying or doing everything you think I ought to say or do. If you know me in person and thus have the benefit of seeing me in multiple venues, talk to me about it.
If you only know me online, I ask you to keep that in mind. What I say, share, and like here and on social media is true to who I am, but it only represents a small percentage of my time. It is not my whole person. It may be easy to assume that if you don’t see it, it’s not happening, but that assumption is usually inaccurate.
Of course, you are also welcome to ask/confront me about it, and I am happy to hear you out. But hearing you out does not automatically mean compliance. I hope that I will not merely pander to your wishes just to placate you and get a pat on the head. Because ick. Please expect better things of me.
…to attainable expectations. I have noticed a pattern in which I will start out with completely rational goals. Then something triggers some type of excitement explosion, and suddenly my vision becomes completely irrational.
Part of me really likes this about myself. May I never become so dull and stodgy that even my wildest dreams fall completely within the realm of reason.
Another part of me needs me to calm the hell down and stop being so hard on myself.
A couple of months ago, I took my first Pure Barre class. I went into it eager but relaxed (well, as relaxed as I ever get about new social situations). I was just going to give it a try and see how far into the hour I got. I met some people, and Jessa, who had invited me, showed me around a little.
Then I walked into the class. I saw the barre and the mirrors and watched people stretching to limber up, and two of the gnomes who live in my head – Ms. Perfectionist and Ms. Competitive – perked up. Somehow, they must have convinced me that I was still 19 and a size six and dancing ten hours a week, because that’s the level of intensity at which I started the class.
Of course, about 10-15 minutes into the class, my body revolted and reminded me, “Nope – you’re forty. Here – have some dizziness and nausea!” I actually had to leave class for a while. I came back and finished, but I didn’t get out of it what I could have if I’d paced myself.
I want to have fewer of those experiences this year. I want to be better at setting goals that I can actually achieve. It’s not as if I’m giving anything up. After all, there’s no rule that says I can’t work back up to dancing ten hours a week if I decide that’s what I want. I just need a better assessment of how much work it will take.
…to my strengths. * sigh * This job of mine. Sure, the pay could be a lot better, and the job description could be better defined, but other than that, there’s nothing inherently wrong with it. It’s just not in my wheelhouse. I’m competent, but it’s not what I’m best at. It neither excites nor challenges me. I am nagged by this persistent sense that my talents and strengths would be better utilized elsewhere.
I want to find my elsewhere. Maybe it’s a different position in the same department. Maybe it’s in another department on campus. Maybe it’s not in higher education at all. But I want to find it. It’s hard to be truly myself when I spend 40 hours a week doing something that’s not.
…to my life in general. In Poemcrazy, Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge talks about looking for a place to live – “I look for places made of poetry for me, places alive with history, wildlife and mystery. Then I move in if I can.” Well, she can keep her wildlife, but otherwise, that quote is a punch in the gut. As many things as I like about my apartment and neighborhood (the multiculturalism, the…nope, that’s it), it’s never really felt like home, at least not in the way that other places have. I want to live somewhere I feel at home again. Of course, I have some ideas about how it will look – a place for a small garden, an area to sit outside with a glass of wine or cup of coffee, an extra room for books – but mostly I just want to walk in the door and sigh with relief instead of resignation.
That room of books needs to have room for some pretty serious writing to get done, too. My writing goals this year center around publication. Something’s getting published this year, even if I have to publish it myself.
…to delight. I will always be a student. I don’t ever want to stop learning new things and actively seeking out things that move me. I want to read 100 books. I might take a cooking class or tap lessons. I might even try PureBarre again, only with the appropriate respect for the work and my current body. I want to embrace music and dance and poetry – as practice, as art, as essentials.
A true life is one that is lived, not just endured.
Now it’s your turn. What are your goals for the year?
I’ve been talking for what seems like forever about getting a new place to live that better suits me. This year, I listed it as one of my main goals.
M. Suzanne Terry 