We are reaching the end of the first month of the new year, and I can’t help but feel that this year will be special. Not the kind of special that is universal, but the kind that is specific to oneself. That these little goals that I have set for myself are actually achievable. Maybe the lessons I have learned over the years have enabled me to understand where I am going wrong.
We all have a major goal. Whether that’s going back to school and getting your Master’s, or maybe it’s overcoming some major mental setback that keeps you spiraling. For some of us, it could be as simple as being a more present parent. But every year it gets away from us. We start out hauling ass out the gate, and two weeks in, we are exhausted from trying. It’s the mental load. It just seems too heavy.
So baby steps. Say it with me, baby steps. For example, last year I took hours writing down all the books I wanted to read for 2025. It was 25 books. That meant I would read two books a month. How many books did I actually read last year? Four. Four books. Yea…
So this year, I have set smaller, more attainable goals for myself. I still want to read more because I truly enjoy it, but I have to be realistic in that my brain has changed since I read regularly, and I now have to “train” my brain to keep pace, so to speak. So I have given myself the mini goal of reading 5 pages a day, and you know what, fam? I am actually reading more than that.
Did I mention I have also set a small goal to limit screen time? Could this be contributing to my need for mental stimulation, thus the increase in consumption of written literature? Maybe, but whether it is or isn’t, the result is me reaching the goals I set for myself, and that makes me feel so good.
