I wonder.

Where was I this time last year?

I don’t mean physically.  My memory is not yet so far gone that I don’t remember my actual location.  I am trying, though, to remember where I was mentally.  Did I have a plan?

I don’t think so.

I think, at that point, I was still too absorbed in adjusting to our move and in trying to get the house in order to have a plan.  I had a To Do list (I always do)—and I was letting that stand in for a plan.

It’s not really the same thing, however.

This year, I want to have a plan.  I’d really like to put together some specific goals.  I’m just wondering what they should be.

I don’t know about you, but I find that as soon as I start wondering what they should be, I’ve lost the battle.  I spend so much time trying to figure out what the best path to take might be that I don’t take any path.  I just wander aimlessly.    Lots of interesting things happen, but they aren’t always the ones I’d like.

I’m reminded again of the Teddy Roosevelt quote I mentioned here. Because the worst thing you can do is nothing—and failing to plan pretty much leads to nothing.

Part of the trouble is that picking a goal opens you up to failure.  I often think I’m reluctant to pick one thing because it closes off all the other possibilities.  But it is just remotely possible that it’s a fear of commitment.  If I don’t actually plan to write a whole novel, I won’t be disappointed in myself when one doesn’t materialize.

The way to think about that, however, is to remember that failing to meet a goal is a single failure, and failing to even make a goal means failure on all fronts.  I won’t have written a novel or a play or remodeled the kitchen or lost 10 pounds or learned to cook or. . . .

So, I don’t know where I will be this time next year.

This time next week, however?  I’m not going to be wondering what the plan will be.  I’m going to have one.