Sometimes I wonder if I'd been born in a different time and a different place, would my life have been so overwhelmingly involved in setting goals? If I were a real Heidi (my favorite book at one point in my childhood which I just looked for on the bookshelf where it should be and isn't there and I'm going to worry about that all day), would I have set goals? "Today, I will pick 3 bouquets of wildflowers and give one to Grandfather, one to Peter and keep one for myself." or "Today, I will fix my hair differently to see if Peter notices and maybe lose that last 5 pounds." His name was Peter, right?
All I know is that my life has revolved around setting goals. In a rather pitiful journal entry from December, 1985, when I should have been writing all the adorable things my 11 month old baby girl was doing, here's what I really wrote: "I've been reading my journal. When I am 99 1/2 years old, an excerpt from my journal is sure to read: 'Boy, has it been a long time. I need to set goals again. My goals are: 1. Read scriptures, daily prayer 2. Clean house, better meals 3. Lose 5-10 pounds 4. Catch up on laundry 5. etc. etc. etc.' On the next page in very large lettering, it says:
"I'm tired of making no apparent progress. For years, I've been setting the same goals. Why can't I ever succeed on them?"
That was 32 years ago and I swear that I have set those exact goals within the last 2 weeks. Now, some of you may say there's something wrong with my goals and I would agree. I actually used to set about 25 goals, track my progress on them for a month and then grade myself. Exercised 20 days out of 30 this month? Sorry, that's a 66%--a D. Better luck next month!
But seriously, anyone who has talked to me in the last 5 months knows I've been on a nauseatingly self-absorbed self improvement journey. I've actually lost about 30 pounds which puts me right in that lose 5-10 more pounds category. Can I have some laughter here? Feel free to use this as an example of irony, Language Arts teachers out there! I've also confronted some very real issues that deal with my relationship with my oldest son and how I should not try to control him and his very real and heartbreaking addiction issues. I'm so grateful for the help I've received in that area with a real life life coach (I know, how cool is that?) and the wonderful family support arm of the Addiction Recovery Program through the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Cody and I have a much less co-dependent relationship where we can love each other without doing damage.
I have also tried very hard to identify the gifts I have been given so that I can use them to serve others. This is not an easy thing for me and I'm guessing it's not an easy thing for most women I know. I don't know about men. I don't understand men. Period. But my friends and I seem to constantly question our gifts. I can see theirs as plainly as I see the sun in the sky and perhaps they see mine, but what's up with that? Gloria carries a calmness and peaceful dignity within herself that makes her an incredible friend and an amazing elementary school teacher. Debbie is the most supportive person I know when I have needed support but every time I talk to her she concentrates on what she's not doing. Sheila--well, okay, Sheila is aware that she is the best massage therapist in the world--but I don't know if she always appreciates the example she sets in other areas. She is my number one mentor in how to handle the whole co-dependency thing. I could go on and on. I have a lot of friends who don't acknowledge their gifts. Maybe they are just appropriately humble.
I am currently going through my semi-annual depressive stage. I blame Quinn. He and Eden needed some babysitting help for a couple of weeks and I was surrounded by grandchildren morning to sometimes middle of the night (not 24/7 of course! Just when their work schedules overlapped when school started!). I didn't spend enough time with Sam's darling kids, but enough to add more layers of love for them. I was so happy reliving my rearing children days without all the worry and work. I came home and even though Jana is pretty generous about sharing her children, the truth is that I mostly live alone with a depressed, tired woman of a certain age.
Meanwhile, back to goals. I believe in them. Mostly. Formerly mentioned life coach scared the heck out of me a few weeks ago with this definition of Hell: On the last day of your life, you meet the person you could have been. Yikes! Who wants that? I want to return to my Heavenly Father having magnified my gifts and talents, not having to confess that I buried them.
But how do you accept that you are enough the way you are and still challenge yourself to be more? How do you like yourself and not judge yourself and still acknowledge that you need to improve and change? These are questions I do not have the answers for but I have to end now. I have laundry to do and my house is a mess!!
