Goals

When I was 13 I started a habit of writing down on (or near) my birthday what I wanted to accomplish in the next year, as well as what was no longer important and what I'd accomplished in the previous year. Sometimes it's felt sort of like a burden, and sometimes it's been something to look forward to. Every year (except two that I've missed) I read through the contents of every envelope. It's strange to see how young and immature I was as a teenager (of course), how self-absorbed I was in my 20s, and how much love I've felt through most of my 30s. I've been so very lucky.

There is more that I've observed, but one thing has been consistent: I have dreams. I pen them. They come true. It's completely strange and I wonder how much visualizing a dream and then writing it down sets it in motion. I feel proud. And I feel a little afraid. Because it's pretty heavy to remember how much control you have over your life. It's a big responsibility. Oh, how I'd prefer to not be the one in control sometimes. Sooooo much easier.