Day One Hundred-Eight: Goals

One late night, I realized that all my life as been a series of setting then obtaining goals. From my earliest school memories through my graduation from law school, I have set high goals for myself and then obtained them. I can think of only a few goals I set for myself that I have not obtained. One, was to go to college in Washington, D.C. That was financially out of my reach at the time, so no use dwelling on that. The other was getting a job directly out of law school. It was recession and I didn't graduate from an ivy-league law school. Jobs were scarce, so I did the next best thing. I took 3 successive bar exams and passed them, all in an effort to create marketability. It ultimately prove futile, as the job I got was in the first bar state I passed, but I'm sure the fact a that I passed 3 bar exams will hold some weight with potential future employers.

This brings me to my epiphany. I haven't set any type of goal for myself in a very long time. Sure, I set the weight loss goal, but who hasn't? I'm talking about the type of goal that requires a great deal of dedication, grit and determination. Having children was a goal, but having 4 turned out to be more of an accident of circumstance than calculated events. Raising them is also much more fluid than any goal setting requires. I have set daily goals of getting done what needs to be done, but it becomes mind numbing after the sheer number of repetitions. How may times can I get all the laundry done or clean out the closets before it all needs to be done again?

I need to set a goal for myself. The problem is, I have no idea what goal to set. Should it be to publish a book? That would entail a great deal of time and effort into learning the craft and I'm not so sure this is what I really want to do. Get a job? I've set that goal, but it is too vague. I don't know if I want to go back to the conventional practice of law. I don't really know where my talent and time would be best suited. Go back to prosecuting? I don't know if I have the patience for criminal offenders any more. Start my own practice again? I don't know if I want to repeat that experience, as I know I don't have the patience for the criminal offenders I'd have to represent to make it profitable.

So, here I sit. I am very clear on my current state of discontentment. I have no real goal to work toward other than to find my goal. I guess another way of saying it is I have to find my passion and turn it into a way to make a living. I need to work, to create something, to contribute something to feel vibrant and alive. I just don't know what that is. I've read that many others feel the same way. Many feel stuck in dead end jobs or stuck in "golden handcuffs"- jobs that pay well but are not fulfilling. I'm not stuck in either, but I do need to look toward the next phase of my life and find what I need to be fulfilled. Put simply, I need a goal. Any ideas?

Day One Hundred-Seven: Damn Girl Scouts!

I just resolved to get off my rapidly enlarging ass and lose some weight. I worked long and hard 2 years ago to lose 15 pounds. The last 15 pounds of baby weight came off at a glacial pace and held firm like a deer tick on my dog. I did it. One solid year of Weight Watcher meetings, daily doses of exercise and eating in a sensible, healthy manner put me back into a size 6. A size, by the way, that I haven't seen since 1993. Well, fast forward to today. I have only 5 pounds of that lost 15 still to claim, the size 6's are up in the attic, and the size 8's are laughing at me when ever I try to button, zip or buckle.

I have only myself to blame. I am a stress eater. I am a glass is half-full kind of gal, as we've previously established, so I find plenty of reasons to stress then eat. My drug of choice? I reach for sweets in the form of chocolate. At first it was only the best chocolate: Godiva truffles, real bakery treats, the occasional chocolate dipped apple at Rocky Mountain Chocolates (to die for!!). I had to make a concerted effort to obtain these particular kryptonic crutches and I found it was worth it every time. However, time marched on and I became less and less diligent with my eating habits. Fries replaced salads when taking the kids to McDonald's, Hersey kisses replaced Godiva truffles and instead of one Weight Watcher ice cream bar, I had 2, sometimes 3 before my craving was satisfied.

The pounds came on slowly. Once the size 6's were too small, I didn't worry too much. After all, was I really a size 6? I have been a double digit gal most of my life, so who was I kidding? Then it was only 5 pounds, 7 pounds, 9 pounds. I can get rid of that. I just need to buckle down, right? Wrong. It is now the magical 10 pounds. The muffin is back and it's not the kind I eat for breakfast. Jeans and a t-shirt are not forgiving. I has been said that there is something about 10 pounds that makes what ever weight you have gained officially not okay. I agree.

So, as I sit here on my healing, swollen and bruised foot, I have resolved to get back with the program. I need to dust off the size 6's and believe that I deserve the good health to wear them. It will not be an easy task, as I have a great deal of trouble losing any weight without exercise, but I should be able to start with the change to healthy, controlled eating. I'll go back to the meetings, religiously, as I did when I was successfully reaching my goal. As I am full of all this resolve- DING DONG- the door bell rings.

I went upstairs thinking it was one of the neighborhood kids looking for a playmate. It was one of the neighborhood kids alright, but not looking for one of the boys. She was looking for me. She had on a green uniform and was holding a large box filled with smaller boxes. I had ordered 5 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in January. The thought of those Thin Mints were too much to resist. Now I have them and 3 other varieties. They mock my resolve. They will call to me each time I pass the cupboard, when I am trying to fall asleep in my bed and when I feel like I cannot take another whining, complaining, fighting minute more of my children. This is not good.

In short, Damn Girl Scouts!

Day One Hundred-Six: Too Much Input

After a very long 5 days without water and the only power via use of a generator, I was more than ready to reenter the modern world. I was in for an unpleasant surprise. Although I can never get too much of a long, sudsy shampoo under a steaming, hot shower, it's the rest of the modern world I found I could very well do without.

I have been less mobile than I like, as I am still recovering from my foot surgery. I have been restless for long walks in the fresh air. I get as far as the end of my driveway and my foot protests loudly. Thus, I am stuck inside. With the power use limited, I let the kids use the t.v for video games and movies. I have a stack of videos that I have been meaning to watch since about 2005, but I have not had the time nor opportunity to watch them in a house full of young boys. That left me reading quite a bit, working through puzzle books and reading the stacks of magazines I have around the house. I longed for the use of my computer. Who was on Facebook? How many e-mails did I have in my inbox? I was in withdrawal from my daily doses of HLN News, Oprah and the Weather Channel. I felt cut off from the world.

The world has come rushing back at a speed I didn't quite remember nor process. The reprieve from the modern world had been just long enough to get used to the lack of bombardment of audio-visual stimulation. Sensory input from every direction has left me with a slight headache and a longing to be cut off from the world again. HLN used to be where I turned for a quick review of the goings on around me. Now, between the chattering talking heads, the constant commercials and the stream of written information at the bottom of the screen, I feel motion sick watching it. I get the same feeling with my internet compulsion; I feel a bit nauseous from the lighting quick changes from image to image, email to email, screen to screen. It is like I am failing the world wide attention deficit disorder test. Funny, I never knew we were all taking it.

Because of my overwhelming sense of sensory overload, it has been a bit difficult to get back into the routine of writing. With some much information, stimulation and noise thrown at us, what could I possibly contribute? It is the the call to quiet, simple peace and quiet that I wish to contribute. The perfect storm of events- surgery, power outage, water shortage- has given me insight into the human need for quiet. I don't have much quiet in my life. I spend hours listening to rambunctious and sometimes overwrought boys. I fill the occasional silences in my home with music from my ipod or programming from my t.v., my car rides have voices from NPR and cd's that have just about been worn out from use after use, and when getting ready for bed, I fill my head with the narrative voice of the novel I'm reading. I rarely, if ever, just sit and listen to the silence.

How liberating to do just that. I resolve that once a day, for even a few moments, I will be still. I will not read, I will not listen to voices singing, talking, complaining, selling or whining. I will hear my own breathing, the settling of the house, the knock of the wind on the windows and I will be still. This is the best "kindness" I can do for myself- unplug and unwind. I am looking forward to what opens up to me during these moments of stillness. I'm sure that the universe will have something to teach me. I also sure that the universe will have something to teach you too if you chose to try it.