Goals and Climbing Mountains

A while ago, I joined the Proper Mountain Woman club for a season after a friend told me about it. My sister, Liz, also joined, and we had a lot of fun earning merit badges and completing and sharing projects. I did not continue membership in that club, though it was a fun experience. But Liz and I had both shared our progress with each other, and we wanted to continue to do so.

So Liz created a Discord server where we could continue to share the goals we had finished. We invited our other sisters as well. We do seasonal goals–winter, spring, summer, fall–with a few ranks that we can earn. You can get a rainbow rank for completing a goal in each category (spiritual, social, physical, intellectual, service, family, home and garden, career, nature, fun, food and finance, creative). Or a mountain rank for sharing 50 accomplishments and completing a large project. We also share ideas for different goals we can set.

This changed my life.

Since I was little, my dad would sit with me and we would set goals. I always loved to plan and set goals for myself, and I was fairly good at accomplishing them. I wasn’t the sort of person that would set New Year’s resolutions once a year and then forget about them completely. While I definitely fail at my goals sometimes, goal setting has helped me focus my life and spend my time in worthwhile pursuits.

But before, sometimes my goals were more of a to-do list that I just wanted to check off and forget. If you think of most to-do list apps, when you get something done, it disappears, checked off forever. Even in a to-do list, you often will scribble something out. This can be effective for certain things, like daily tasks. But it’s a bit discouraging when all you are looking at is the things that still need to get done, a list that never ends.

When I started reporting my goals to my sisters, though, I was doing the opposite.

I have a spreadsheet now that I track my seasonal goals with. I write down what I want to do in a season, and when I finish something, I literally highlight it in a bright color. And so whenever I’m planning, I already feel quite encouraged, and that gives me enthusiasm to do more.

Instead of crossing off my goals, I was highlighting sharing them. My focus changed from just getting stuff done to actually celebrating the thing that I was doing.

And it is so wonderful to share goals with other people, and have them share with you as well. It’s not at all about comparison, but about sharing and celebration. I love seeing what other people are accomplishing. It gives me added motivation. And I loved sharing projects with other people. It gives added meaning.

I think I am more proud of myself, and I mean that in a good way. I think there’s a negative version of pride, when we think we are better than others, but there is also a positive version, when we’re pleased with ourselves, when we know we are on the right track, and we feel more confident in our own abilities. There is a lot of satisfaction to know that you did something well–maybe not perfect, but good enough.

And I feel like I’m challenging myself better. Because it’s really hard to be completely self-motivated, to challenge yourself when no one sees the results. I have evidence now, evidence that I can share, that I am becoming a better person and do something meaningful with my life. And I see my sisters growing too. It’s powerful (and life-changing) to do it together.

TL;DR

  • Stop checking everything off your list and highlight accomplishments instead.
  • Find someone to share with: share your goals and the fun and good things you do with your life.
  • Count the stuff that you did that wasn’t in your to-do list in the first place.
  • Gamify your goals just a bit: have fun ranks that you can achieve.
  • Set goals about things you want to do, not just things you feel like you should.

Light in the darkness

I think I figured out what I want to write my dissertation on: it’s somewhat focused on self-interest, but also on altruism. I’m really curious about if we need to be self-interested or not. Do we need to take care of ourselves? Is it necessary that we worry about our own well-being? What about the people that sacrifice so much for the service of others?

Christmas time has always been a time of service for me. Sometimes I feel weird about it–I’m buying presents for my kids and spending so much money on my own family–but I also want to help other people too. I hear of some people who give all their Christmas money to others, while I find myself giving my children more presents than they really need (or even perhaps want). I wonder if I could be doing more good.

We visit Giving Machines. We contribute to charities. We take tags off the Giving Tree in the elementary school lobby and I have my kids pick out presents for others. I look at service projects in my community and try to sign up–play the piano at a hospital, clean up after an event, volunteer at the food pantry, make blankets.

And then my kids get sick and I have to cancel half of the things I volunteered for so I can stay home and take care of them. I feel conflicted about what is self-interested and what is serving others: did I volunteer just so I felt good about myself? Or because I felt it as a duty, but I didn’t really want to do it? Or did I genuinely care about someone besides myself?

I worry sometimes about the impacts I have on others. I have the biggest impact on my own children. I want them to learn to look outward. I make cookies and bring them to neighbors. I send out Christmas cards, but I am afraid I have forgotten people. I go and visit elderly friends and tell them I will return to visit another time because the visit is never long enough.

I tell my daughter that happiness comes in the service of others. But I don’t think I serve other people in order for me to feel happy. Instead, I serve them because I want them to be happy. And my own happiness comes as a by-product. It may be impossible to make someone else happy without making yourself happy as well.

How much do I need to give? How much do I want to give?

I look at the holiday displays people make and I wonder for a moment if all that money could have been given to charity instead. Yet, if everyone did that, we would not have the light filling up the dark space of December. And I love Christmas lights.

Perhaps there is simply enough to do all of it–to give presents to my children, to donate to charity, to help other people, to enjoy the twinkling colorful lights. Perhaps our time and money are not as scarce as we sometimes believe, and there is more than enough.

But that isn’t quite right, because sacrifice is necessary. Sacrifice is praiseworthy and good and beautiful.

I remember all the stories in my life about sacrifice: My grandma sewing clothes for my mom and surprising her during a meager year. My mom searching to give me a Furby, despite the fact that they are sold out everywhere. My husband buys a friend his only Christmas presents of the year, and even though it is a simple fruit cake, they share it gladly.

When there is scarcity, people give in service to others, even though it requires sacrifice. They prioritize others about themselves. And that is right. That is light.

I hear people on Instagram telling me that I should prioritize myself at Christmastime. That I can ask for presents and spend time for myself. But I don’t want to. I want to connect with others so much more than I ever want to receive for myself.

That connection means that I do receive: I am invited, included. Others wrap presents for me and put them under the tree because they love me. And I receive that with gratitude.

No moment of my life is about myself. It is always about someone else, above giving and serving and helping and maybe, maybe making someone else’s life just a little bit better. Whenever I have pursued my own self-interest just because of my own selfish desires (and it happens more frequently than I want to admit), it has drained my life of purpose and led to unhappiness.

The light that shines in the darkness is that we love each other, and that we are loved. We celebrate Jesus Christ who loved us so much that he gave everything to us. In ever gift I give and receive, I remember the greatest gift, a light to the world.

My job is not to make my kids happy

I got angry the other day. My kids were fighting over who got to sleep on the trampoline, and there was no combination that existed that would make them happy. If I made some kids happy, others started crying. And I was very frustrated.

I had to take a break and walk away. I thought of the problem a little more and realized that I couldn’t solve the problem as it currently existed. The solution I wanted was to make all my kids happy. But their preferences didn’t align in a way that I could do that successfully.

I could try to incentivize them in some way, such as letting the kids who didn’t sleep on the trampoline watch a movie. But that was just creating more problems–and those sorts of incentives can be extremely costly to me.

So I realized that the easiest way to solve the problem was to stop trying to make my kids happy. When I relaxed that requirement, a lot more solutions became available. And I no longer felt overwhelmed by an impossible problem.


When my kids were babies, when they cried, I needed to help them. But as they got older, they wanted more and more things. And sometimes what they want doesn’t make sense.

In a way, it’s easy to try to just give my kids what they want. Because then they stop whining, and I hate hearing them cry and complain. But they need to learn, more than they need satsification.

I need to provide food, clothing, shelter, education, love. I do not need to provide happiness, entertainment, treats, movies, video games, and solutions to all of their problems. My kids want more of me than I can give sometimes, but I can use that as a way to teach them to become more self-reliant, more grateful, more kind to each other, and harder workers.


Relatedly, I’ve stopped trying to make things fair all the time. Sometimes things just aren’t fair. Someone will get more birthday presents, or more dessert, or more time with friends. Sometimes I treat my kids differently because they are different, and because I don’t have the time and energy to equally distribute everything.

I still think fairness can be very important virtue. But fairness as a virtue doesn’t mean noticing when someone else has more and wanting more as well. That selfish fairness is not usually helpful or virtuous. What is better is using fairness as a way to share, to help those who have less, and to notice people who are left out.

I don’t need to be the sole distributor of fairness in my family. I don’t need to keep giving my kids more and more and more. I can teach them to share with each other instead, to be grateful for what they have, and to be okay even if someone has more than they do.


Two of the kids slept on the trampoline. Two of them who wanted to did not. The ones that did not were not happy about it. But I explained my reasoning, and then I let them feel however they wanted to feel. And honestly, once I made the decision, they weren’t as upset as I feared they would be. They don’t actually expect to always get what they want all the time. But if they think they can get it by crying and complaining, they are more likely to cry and complain.

Sometimes being the best mom I can be means not making everyone happy, explaining to my kids why I can’t give them what they would like, and holding to my decisions. That’s teaching them.

Working Hard

I’ve always wanted to be the sort of person that buckles down, focuses completely, and gets lot of work done in a short amount of time. And while that does happen on occasion, I’m often distracted and off-track.

This semester has been particularly intense. I’ve enjoyed the work (for the most part). But sometimes my life gets a little out of balance, and I don’t always deal with stress well.

For some of my life, I would get really discouraged if the beginning of my day didn’t go quite right. I would feel really guilty, and that guilt would overwhelm me and I no longer had motivation to do anything. One mistake would expand into a whole day of just feeling bad and not doing much.

I don’t do that anymore. I realized that feeling guilty over certain things was not worth it. If I notice that I got distracted, I don’t need to feel guilty. I just need to refocus. If a day is going differently as planned, I don’t need to get discouraged; I just need to embrace whatever the day is.

Sometimes trying to create better habits can do more harm than good when you approach habits in the wrong way. Habits need exceptions. If you try to do something every day that you’ve never done before, you’re going to miss days. And then you might give up. But instead, it’s better to keep trying and release the guilt that you’ll never always be on track. Your habits need to work for you; you don’t need to be a slave to your habits.

I try to recognize the good that I am doing instead of just thinking of everything that isn’t getting done. I want to improve very much, but my main motivation for improvement does not need to be a sense of shame that I’m failing.

Life is unexpected. I need to flexibly adapt to it. And that means that some days, I don’t have a ton of motivation. Some days I end up in my pajamas longer than I expect. Some days the to-do list doesn’t get done. Some days are hard.

I have papers to read; papers to write; friends to check in with; meals to make. I need to take care of myself, take care of my family, and take care of my schoolwork. But sometimes I’m going to get distracted–and sometimes I need those distractions.

And then I brush myself off, and start working again.

Trust

In one of my classes, we’ve talked a lot about trust. We covered three basic account of trust:

  1. Trust is attributing good will to other people.
  2. Trust is about keeping commitments/contracts.
  3. Trust as an unquestioning attitude .

And I came up with my own version:

  • When you trust something or someone, you think it’s not dangerous and won’t harm you.

I was leading a class discussion and I asked two questions: what do you trust that you probably should not trust? And what should you trust that you probably should?

It was easier for us to find answers to the first question. Social media. Smart phones. Bureaucracies that don’t care about you. Grades.

But people didn’t really have an answer to the second. Here was my answer: People who love you, who have your best interest at heart, and who give you really good advice and feedback. And here’s another answer, that I couldn’t say in class: we often can trust God a whole lot more. We can not question his plan for our life, and trust that he will take care of us.

Thoughts on being good enough

It’s so easy to think you aren’t good enough. Your to-do list never gets done. You have persistent habits you don’t like. You make mistakes. You gets harsh feedback. You have trouble focusing. You say the wrong things.

But the people who love you don’t just see your mistakes. They see you. They accept you, with all your flaws and your strengths. You are a person, and that means you are wonderfully complicated. You can’t be easily quantified into a rating of good or bad, likeable or not.

And it’s okay to recognize that you will not only make mistakes, but everything you do might be flawed in some way. Perfection is impossible, but humility can be a powerful force.

A woman gives the most amazing (though flawed) presentation even though she didn’t think she was any good at presentations. She showed up anyway, and blessed the lives of others.

A student gets a grade based on a rubric even though he has some of the most insightful comments in the discussions at class. He keeps trying to do every better.

A friend goes up, even though she is exhausted by health problems, and goes to visit someone she loves.

An artist, unsure of herself, posts a picture that she made that makes someone feel a little happier inside.

Those small moments matter.

A lot of your growth will come from the humility and vulnerability when you stop trying to be good enough, and you just show up with who you are.

Defining who you are

I’m a PhD student and a very common question I get is what my area of research is. People expect you to specialize in order to learn lots of stuff about one smaller area so that you can contribute to that area. I don’t find that problematic, and I’m working on determining where I want my research to go. The first semester, I just wanted to get my bearings and learn if I could actually do research and write academic papers (the answer, I discovered, was yes, I was competent).

But even when I figure out exactly what I want to write my dissertation on, I am not defined by my area of research. I like lots of different things. And I like more than philosophy.

I am not a philosopher. I am more than that.

I don’t have to define who I am. Who I am is more than what I can define. It’s too big. Who I am is all of my existence, not a summary. The summary would inevitably leave out some important bits.

And it’s okay to summarize. I summarize when I’m introducing myself to people. I summarize in my journal and my blog. But it becomes problematic when I start believing in that summary more than believing in all of me.

2022 In Review

I feel so blessed this year in so many ways. It was just a good year. I’ve had a lot of hard years to get to this point, so I feel so grateful. A lot of things I was working towards for so long have been realized in amazing ways. I own a home. I am building a career now. My kids are older and much more self-sufficient. Life changes–and sometimes it gets better.

I started graduate school this year. I always wanted to get a PhD, but it more seemed like a dream, not something that would actually happen. And now I am in a program, starting my research. I feel incredibly lucky that things worked out–that I ended up in a place where I could do this.

We are almost done with our home renovation. We actually finished rooms this year. Lots of rooms. Bathrooms. Laundry rooms. Toy rooms. Office. Bedrooms. Living rooms (except for the ceiling). We are really close to finishing and I LOVE my home now. It’s the first time I really feel like I have my own home. We also worked a lot on the yard–doing an in-ground trampoline and a clubhouse.

I did the Proper Mountain Woman Club for the summer and it was life changing for me. I usually just set goals based on what I want to get done or think that I should do, and they often feel like an obligation. But this was a program where I did things just to do the things. It changed how I set goals and thought about my own progress. I became more well-rounded by recognizing the good I was already doing and being able to try and explore new things. I now do a Discord server with my sister where we share our goals and accomplishments with each other. Being able to share and recognize the accomplishment of small goals has really led me to be a lot happier.

We had a lot of fun as a family this year. We went on a vacation to the woods and the beach, but we also did a lot of hikes and adventures–going to a baseball game, trampoline park, corn maze, swimming, camping etc. My favorite moments in the whole world are being outside with my kids and my husband, whether we are throwing snowballs at each other, climbing rocks, exploring somewhere new, sledding, swimming, building a fire–those small moments are simply the best.

And I loved going backpacking for the first time in a long time. And snowshoeing. And climbing mountains (well, most of a mountain). We even went tubing down a river and hiked through a cave. And we have a new cat and a new turtle.

I made a lot of new friends, from a writing group, a writing workshop, going to school, and the parents of my kids’ friends as well. All those new relationships mean a lot to me.

I improved as a person, in getting better habits. I did weekly piano lessons with my kids, for example. And with the added structure of going to school, my mental health improved a lot. I found better boundaries between my family life and my own career.

The small moments are often the best moments. Recognize the good you do in your life. Write it down! Share it with others!

I celebrated my life more this year, and it led to a great deal of happiness for me and my family.

(I do have many lovely pictures of my kids too, but I try to keep them a bit more private.)

Christmas Dissonance

At a writing group the other day, we wrote about a Christmas memory that was discordant. Christmas is often this happy time of year, where we share happy memories and miracles, but we explored the other end of Christmas, when that expectation of happiness is instead met with difficulty.

One writer shared about when she no longer believed in Santa Claus, transitioning from childhood to being a teenager. The presents weren’t fun anymore, and her parents gave her a doll that she hated.

Another writer shared about a large cousin present exchange, and the strong feeling that she didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by being disappointed. She cared more about others’ feelings than herself.

And then there was a heartbreaking story of a family trying to find happiness on Christmas morning–but instead of seven children, there were only six.

I thought about the Christmas not too long ago when we moved on Christmas Day. I made frog eye salad because I make it every Christmas. We put it in a cooler and we pulled over to a rest stop and ate frog eye salad for Christmas lunch with plastic forks, straight of the bowl. It snowed the day, hard, and we got into our house late and exhausted.

There was another Christmas, a few years before, where I was dealing with mental health issues and did not have a handle on my emotions. I was overcome with anger and ended up throwing the frog eye salad in rage–it landed everywhere, even on the Christmas tree.

Why was I making frog eye salad for Christmas when it was tied to so many difficult times?

Because I really like frog eye salad. It’s a weird combination of custard and acini di pepe pasta and canned fruit and whipped topping. Yes, I’ve eaten it during hard moments, but it still tastes good.

Sometimes Christmas doesn’t need to be the most wonderful time of the year. Sometimes it’s hard and difficult. Sometimes we cry more than we laugh. That’s okay. No Christmas is really perfect. We’re all still people trying our best and failing a lot. But we still keep trying. In all that trying, it’s okay to just let life come in all it’s imperfections.

And if you are going through hard times, it’s good to remember that your favorite food can still taste delicious.

Christmas Morning 2018–the year we moved on Christmas Day

Treat Everyone As Your Equal

At a writing conference, I asked a writer about advice on networking. And she said to treat everyone as your equal.

There are certain situations you get it that have a hierarchy: at a writing conference, there are presenters and attendees. In college, there are teachers, graduate students, and undergraduates. Often, you are surrounded by people who are not on the same plane as you are.

But treat them as your equal anyway.

Treat the grocery store clerk as your equal. Treat your students as your equal. Treat your bosses as your equal. Treat your children as your equal. Treat random strangers as your equal.

When you start to really love other people and see their worth, you can make better connections with them. Your conversations are fuller and more vibrant. You gain empathy and can help others who need it.

You can learn together. You can feel like you are on the same team. You can find better confidence in yourself and better ability to encourage others.

Treat everyone as your equal.