Why is it that setting goals always feels to me like self-limitation? I guess it doesn't make much sense but deep down I feel that if I say "I'm going to do thus and such at this specific time" something else will present itself and I will be forced to let one go in order to accomplish the other. So I keep my options open.
But there's a problem with open options. If nothing occurs to fill the empty time then I accomplish nothing. Essentially I am allowing the universe to set goals for me and the universe is annoyingly fickle. Today it wants the laundry done but before the task is complete it will decide that the cat's claws need to be clipped or a dinner for seven must be assembled.
Of course, this is a reoccurring topic for me, because I don't learn from previous mistakes and therefore I must repeat them again and again and... again, but I'm getting too old for this.
At the rate I'm going I will be folding towels on my death bed while wondering if I will be able to work on a novel in heaven, or hell. So I resolve to set some goals, to make a schedule, to push myself into making a few decisions. Then I sit and stare at a blank piece of paper and try to figure out how I can possibly commit to steering my own life. It's much easier to deal with consequences when you let the universe decide your fate.
Making decisions means defending my choices and saying "No" to opportunities and, more agonizingly, to those I love who are accustomed to me being available when they might need me.
How do you choose?
Photos courtesty of Flickr and anatomist, 917press, and zen