The Art and Science of Goal Setting: A Personal Tale

science

/ˈsʌɪəns/
noun
1. the intellectual and practical activity encompassing the systematic study of the structure and behaviour of the physical and natural world through observation and experiment. (Source: https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/science)

Today marks the 10 of 10 Fridays of sabbatical, meaning that on Monday I will be back to work and I can’t help but be anxious about what it will bring.

Before I started this break, I had a hard time imagining my life beyond a 5-week period. I could see the trip to Seoul, and I could imagine myself reading, writing, and meeting friends. Yet, I didn’t have the imagination to envision my life beyond that length. This was a first for me. I had always had a plan, a dream, a goal and I didn’t really shrink at the infamous recruiter question of where do you see yourself in five years? Because the way I saw it, the question was an invitation to share my excitement around these motivations to do something, achieve something and become someone.

But in the second half of 2019 that future line started to get blurry. I pushed my break for so long that I started to lose my sense of purpose. Whatever efforts I was making at home or at work felt aimless. I was running on low battery and I kept on pushing the recharge to later and later. Long weekends were not helping, and even a week in the Adriatic Sea during autumn didn’t do it. It soothed the tension, but it didn’t make the anxiety go away.

Ironically my 2019 spreadsheet of goals was making progress. Things were light green at 60 or 70% completion, and I still had almost a whole quarter of the year to achieve more. However, when I looked at my weekly “Wheel of Life” the rating of my physical and emotional health had had a downtrend during the first half of the year, and the idea of doing “more” made me nervous. This was the red flag that I needed to see in order to start making changes. At that point, I put aside a few material and intellectual goals with the idea of focusing more energy in the most fundamental objectives: strong body, strong mind, happy heart.

October came and I was taking every day as it came. Having made the decision to take a break brought with it a sense of calmness. Though I was trying to avoid building too much excitement around the pause to avoid disappointment born from idealizing it, I was also avoiding any bigger commitments at work, or with anything or anyone, for that matter.

The trip to Seoul brought in newnes, and quick disconnection from a routine I was associating with stress, but it was in the routine and the context of the following weeks that I found the reset button to my soul. In the four walls of home I indulged in every day details, I learned new things for the love of them and not out of a feeling of obligation, I took in the moments with my people and other beings and cherished them. The conversations and fights, the meals and coffee breaks, the noise and the silence, the walks and the rest. I Kondod my drawers and Olivered my kitchen. I fixed, created, trashed, and donated things. I repeated the same recipe over and over until I perfected it.

All of this required the methodical approach of a scientist. Observation and experimentation. I didn’t let most days go by in endless binge watching or binge reading or binge eating. Only some. I didn’t sleep in because I am on vacation. In fact, this felt more like being on rehab than on vacation. I rested enough, yes. But I made sure to have intentional days, and that is what got my emotions back in good shape.

After seven weeks I started to feel strong again. “Happy” was a recurrent word in my journal. Having built my basics back up, I was able to create mental space for the future.

Now I needed the artist touch.

art¹

/ɑːt/
noun
1.the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power. (Source: https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/art)

As 2020 sprouts I ride the unstoppable wave of its days without looking ahead, just letting myself be pushed forward with it.

After a few months into dating my husband, back in 2005, he and I were laying on the floor of his parents house drawing a plan on the back of a piece of cardboard. On front there was a collage of photos of us. The plan was a simple horizontal line representing years, with months marked on top of it, vertically. There were key words under some months. The name of places we wanted to be in, or situations we wanted to create for us in the future.

We didn’t spend our days planning or dreaming. We spent them learning, working, drinking, debating. Pretty much, living. But our dreams and plans gave purpose to that life.

Along the years, we constantly used our imagination to dream and plan things together. I did it on my own, for myself, with him, for us.

During 2019 I lost that ability to imagine and dream. I suspect I let my dreams be defined by the opportunities that I was getting at work. I allowed my personal identity to be diluted in work, instead of the opposite: bringing my identity into what I was doing. I suspected something was wrong when people asked me What do you do, and I wanted to avoid answering.

About seven weeks into my therapeutic break, Luis and I went on a date. I brought with me a notebook and a pen (our definition of romance at times involves these two). During the night, I was able to take a small page of my journal and draw my life five years into the future. I was thrilled to see how easy it came about. He was struggling, but slowly he was also able to articulate a few things.

At last, I had been able to reset myself and find within the creativity and imagination of producing the piece of art I was great at: the plan of my life.

Nine weeks into the break I was able to take one step further, and I opened my spreadsheets of goals and started filling in the details of my days for 2020. Yet, there’s still a gap: work.

compromise

/ˈkɒmprəmʌɪz/
noun
1.an agreement or settlement of a dispute that is reached by each side making concessions.

Why am I so anxious about my return to work? I have always treated work as a very important part of my life, not because of what it is, as it is never the same. But because of how much of my time goes into it. It is important to me that I like what I do, and the people I do it with, because strangely enough, I spend more time with them than with the person I agreed to live a life with!

But the truth is I do not know exactly what I will be doing when I am back. I know what my skills are, I know what I enjoy. Yet, work is a two-sided relationship, so it is not sufficient with my side of the story. I need to see the other piece of the puzzle and see if it fits.

There is a lot of privilege in this. I got the support to take a break, and I have the chance to redefine what I will do. Not every company supports you in that way, and not every individual takes the risk of redefining their lives for fear of losing stability. But I am able to do it, and I have the support to do so.

Whatever the case, I am unable to set clear goals for this area of my life until I understand what is on the other side of the puzzle. If I did it, I would be setting up myself for failure, because while we can never be in full control of all the variables, when setting a goal we are aiming to changing a situation to bring about another, so how can we change something if we do not know its current state?

At the same time, it is unhealthy for me to expect to have every piece of the puzzle in place before continuing the journey. Many times we have to walk a path that we will not know where it takes, and that is okay as long as it does not take us away from what matters to us.

When we make plans, and set goals, we are making compromises, we are making choices, and by making them we are saying “no” to more possibilities than we are saying “yes” to. That is okay. It is about doing less things, but the right ones for ourselves. But when we don’t move ahead with our lives because we don’t have a plan we are also saying “no” to life itself, and I believe we only get one life, so why stop it when she will stop herself, anyway?

So I am making a compromise here. I am putting aside my need to have a fully clear plan. I am choosing to appreciate that even if there is uncertainty ahead, everything is an experiment, and I can treat it as such. This means that if it succeeds I will celebrate and if it fails I will learn. I will be scientifically methodical, but I will also be artistically imaginative, to allow myself to transform the fear into creation, and the anxiety into excitement.

Happy Friday,
Maria 🌺