Falling off the Goal Wagon

You may have read my November monthly meet up goal, and wondered how I fared, or what I was vowing to do in December and resolving to do in January.  Isn’t it funny how a decision made in January is a “resolution” but nothing decided the rest of the year is given such a lofty term?

I’m working on life coaching, which I know will be a partial source of income if I want to continue to pay my bills.  Blending with my current job works out well when my day job is not “busy.”  Busy can mean different things to different people – busy for me means overtime at unpredictable times.  Unpredictability is not something I want to embody when coaching someone to be accountable to that whatever they’re striving for, and quite inconvenient when I have an appointment.

Meanwhile, what I was striving towards was applying to grad school. In November, I needed to pick a program that fit what I wanted to learn and could qualify me to be a independent counselor.  Nothing fit.  Instead of hustling toward a goal I’m not even excited about during the honeymoon phase (the honeymoon phase is what I call the high after deciding on an action), I decided to throw on the brakes and focus on the moment I’m in now.  It may not be that fantastic or enviable, but I worked very, very hard to be where I am right now.  I spent a lot of time and effort and gave up some things in order to break into my industry, be trusted to work autonomously, to afford living a walkable distance to my office so I don’t show up with a short fuse from my nasty commute.  Its easy to look at people with cool jobs, and say what am I doing wrong that I’m not you?  But if I knew all the details of these admired strangers’ lives, I bet I’m doing quite a bit right that I’m not them.

Coaching, which is not counseling, fits everywhere but financially.  So, I’m keeping my day job.

This all sounds very relaxing as I write it down, but believe me: it isn’t.  It’s easy to just jump on a goal because it is an action.  Indecision is uncomfortable, so Indecision loves action because it feels like a decision, just without the buyer’s remorse.  Holding out for the right action is hard.

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