Goals Matter

I may have been going at this all wrong.  All wrong, and full steam at that.  I figured out a while ago that collecting accolades and material markers of success were not the end goals for me.  But ... I created a new mindset, a goal set, that may have been in some ways equally distracting and not-the-point-ish, which, loosely, was something like, “helping others, using my natural talents.”

So, a kind of admirable-ish goal, in my mind, a better goal than, say, “Maintaining a size six figure while making six figures,” type-goal.  But still, off, a little.  Closer to the mark, but off.

And I know it’s off, or rather, I’m off, because I’m exhausted and feeling like a failure and hurting in my body and that not-good-enough-itis, Evie the evil inner critic voice still guides so much of my day-to-day thoughts and actions that sometimes it’s just not that great to be me.  And, objectively, it IS great to be me.  I could list all the wonderful things about myself and my life and go on and on and on.

So.  I’m thinking love, feeling loved and giving love, for the is-ness of everything, that’s what I’m gonna focus on now.  That feels easier.  Treating myself with the love that a responsible, loving mother would treat me with.  She’d have me eat right, sleep right, take care of my body, take care of my playtime, my work, the stuff that’s good for me.  First.  I’d be first on the list, and then be in a better position to give of myself.  Second.

So there.  And if it looks like being kind to myself first is gonna result in being voted off the island, left alone to starve on the veld, never being included in any reindeer games ever again, I’ll deal with it then.  Right now I need lunch, a nap, and a shower.  And I’m gonna get on it.  Self-care.  Yes.  I’m gonna keep going.

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