It's inevitable. We change location and direction every time the wind blows it seems and what I do to feel like I'm in control is set what seem like very reasonable, achievable goals to go along with the bucket o' beginning anew that always accompanies change. It's amazing that I keep repeating this habit. I tell myself each time, 'Okay, last time you tried to do way too much so this time just be realistic and make it simple.' It always sounds reasonable and simple.
What I don't ever seem to take into account is the period of time it takes to just adjust. I want to hit the ground running with my ideas on meal planning, study, social time, exercise. I see each new big change as a fresh starting line where everything is lined up equally and when the starting pistol sounds all my ideas will all have the same momentum driving them to the finish line.
I kind of forget the part in this analogy where some runner edges out the others, and that there aren't all first place winners. Even if I'm rooting for them all, somethings gotta give.
This is one attribute of our kind of lifestyle. I can never get much momentum and end up never meeting any of my 'realistic' and 'simplistic' goals. So I just end up surviving one more crazy period of life.
Case in point: As you might remember (since it was like a whole month ago) I said my two goals this year were to 1. Learn French and 2. Get in shape. I then rattled off about a certain exercise program and ideas I had on how to accomplish these goals.
Well.
Long story short, life adjustments have put me into survival mode and my motivation for and process of accomplishing said goals have died. I'll tell you this: I am fitting into my pre-pregnancy pants and for me that is like winning a beauty contest. I never fit into my pants after I had my first baby (he turns three next month) so for now I'm pretty content in this accomplishment. With French I have finally set up a tutor who will come twice a week. Everything else depended too much on other people and strikes. She starts coming next week. Unless something else comes up.
I'll tell ya I'm bummed. I wish I could set goals and meet them. I wish I wasn't trying to learn the ropes of a new neighborhood, grocery store, school, lifestyle once a year. The things that become no-brainers take over my first few months and kill my more exciting goals. My goals shrink to 'make it to H's school on time' and 'buy fruit'.
Although I'm bummed, I know this is part of the life we've decided on. It's me who needs to adjust. I just have to learn to roll with the adjustments and hope that desires like getting in shape will happen along the way.
How do you celebrate accomplishing little things in the midst of great change? Do you know how to? When do you experience the shift from survival to living? Is it impossible to set goals and reach them in this kind of life?
This is interesting b/c I think S. is similar to you in this aspect, but I think my method of dealing w/this is (for better or worse) living life on a 'zoomed in' mode for the most part. For all the praise of German efficiency, I just feel like throwing a party if I can get to the gym, do grocery shopping, and cook up a hot lunch all by 1am. Everything takes forever to do here and it makes me mental. There is not one grocery store I can go to and get everything I need all in one stop (and not break the bank). So I just try to be happy that I fit the car in a spot wide enough to open my door, be thankful that I brought enough reading material for the waiting room, and remembered to buy toilet paper when I was at Aldi (which BOTH S. and I forgot to do yesterday when we were each there separately, aggh!).
ReplyDeleteI set daily goals and try to reach those. I zoom out for the week and say I want to vacuum by Friday and figure I can actually do it on TH or FR morning. My goodness, and you have kids. Yeah, so I don't know!! =P
Have you read the book "Stepping Heavenward"? I just finished it and found it encouraging for the most part, and along these lines you were talking about. It's the fictional account of a woman's diary in the late 1800's (the book was written about then, too).