A Goal Without a Plan is Just a Wish

My wish was not to be married anymore

I was unhappy with being married and wanted out.

I didn’t have a plan or a goal.

What I had was a new job with a not-for-profit organization, no assurance of permanency in the role, a salary sacrificing opportunity, a work car, and very little in savings.

My thoughts were clouded by emotion: unclear, unsound. Mainly fear and guilt, but I knew I had to push through any negative emotions to grow. I wanted to identify shades of excitement and be moved by feelings of freedom and release.

Buoyed in my role and anchored in community organizations by a group of supportive friends I’d met since relocating interstate, I was feeling safe.

Decisions take me a long time to confirm and often a long time to plan and execute. And yet because I do a few spontaneous things, some friends think I’m impetuous and very daring. This isn’t how I see myself.

Although I may not discuss details, I mull over the pros and cons before I start any plans or research. Only when I have a template, tangible and measurable with a clear pathway to achieve what I want, do I implement the plan. Maybe this appears impulsive to others.

With this wish, I had no plan.

The French writer and poet Antoine de Saint-Exupery said, “a goal without a plan is just a wish.”

My wish was achieved almost by visualizing it. After three years, wishing for growth, for change, there wasn’t any energy for plans, albeit impulsive or spontaneous.

Making my move was a linear process. I signed a 12-month lease on an apartment and moved.

I left almost everything. Some belongings have too many memories. My practical solutions included non-emotional ‘stuff’, an antique desk, a computer, my sewing machine. For an indulgence, I claimed the best china (we rarely used it because it was good), the best silverware, and two lamps I loved. I didn’t have a bed — I used a borrowed futon. Oh yes, and I salvaged two paintings, with no significance to my past.

I felt like I didn’t have a history, only a present.

A store near my office knocked down the price of the electrical goods I needed. The sales folks agreed to a massive discount on one condition. While their commercial was filming, I was to wander around the store, pretending to be a customer, opening fridges, and trialing vacuum cleaners I wanted to buy.

After starring in my first commercial, I was beginning to enjoy the singular-decision-making exercises entering my new life.

Connections expanded for me. People sought my advice, showed appreciation for help, and called me a friend.

Other community workers became involved in my networks and organizations. Two high profile community organizations invited me to sit on their boards of management. A community worker was grateful for my mentorship.

I felt included and valued.

I thrived like I hadn’t for several years. Losing weight, buying a new wardrobe of clothes, and joining a Toastmasters International club were all enormous gains for my self-confidence.

Life felt great but remained unpretentious. Being single still took some confidence-building, and sometimes I felt a tiny twinge of apprehension. As much as I liked making autonomous decisions, there were times I wondered what I’d done because I felt so altered.

“What are your plans?”

My credit union manager asked me what my plans were. Plans? My life was becoming so different, so compelling, so busy, so full, and I hadn’t thought beyond where I was in one month to the next. Personal planning wasn’t significant, as I was loving this sense of freedom and having a different relationship with myself.

The manager suggested I buy property. What? I’ve no capital. I’m not planning a divorce settlement. Just unmarried.

He suggested using the funds from the sale of my vehicle as a deposit on an apartment. I couldn’t believe what he was advising me, with my limited knowledge of real estate, limited funds, no idea of home maintenance, and worry over legal issues.

He suggested a massive undertaking for me to explore.

There are those who believe we should live below our means, not beyond them. Many find this to be good advice. However, Samuel James White disagrees. He says this develops a “mindset of scarcity.”

White advocates the benefits of living in a world of aspiration, rather than having a mindset of non-affordability. If we constantly think about what we can’t afford, he says we’ll feel stressed and frustrated. We’ll experience a constant feeling of unfulfillment.

I tried an open-minded-method of exploring.

The advice from my manager, to look at apartments listed for sale in my building, prompted me to think, visualize, and grow a belief in myself.

Was this possible? My manager advised me to purchase under a specific price to avoid paying mortgage tax. Mortgage tax? I had no idea of the importance of what it was.

An apartment was for sale. The owner transferred to Brisbane and wanted to sell. The asking price was over the advised benchmark, so the agent asked what I thought it was worth.

With my newfound confidence, I carelessly quoted an amount of almost 25% lower than the asking price, remembering the mortgage tax ceiling. He said he’d submit the offer to the seller. Would I sign the document proposing the offer? Sure.

In Queensland, if an offer is accepted and the seller signs the offer document, the sale becomes binding. You guessed it. My aspirations were being fulfilled.

Amazingly, I paid an excellent price. Amazingly, arranging finance was seamless.

Words can be powerful.

The following year I was offered an excellent position. It meant returning to Canberra, but I accepted, as it meant I’d be much closer to my family.

My lovely apartment became a liability.

The obligations were a financial burden, a drain on my finances as my apartment was vacant for over three months.

Not able to afford both rent and a mortgage, I registered with a nursing agency and it gave me any amount of weekend work I wanted. I took it all.

The credit union gave me an excellent credit deal on a new car. Never had I owed this much money.

Finally, my apartment was rented with a long-term lease. My stretched finances eased.

My aspirations escalated, while my anxiety abated. As I was now an investor, I scored a viable tax deduction.

I began to think of my apartment as an asset.

“Life cannot be just about saving as much as you can. It has to be about balance, and it has to be about abundance.” — Samuel James White.

Increase your abundance, and you increase the number and type of breaks presented to you. I had abundant debt, but it afforded other opportunities. The real estate market was unfavorable to sell my apartment, however, the market in Canberra was in the same depressed state.

A local real estate search yielded a house “with potential.” The credit union was very excited about my find and came on board to help.

Creating my abundance at last, gave me an incredible feeling.

Kelly Lambert, a professor of behavioral neuroscience, tells us that working for rewards builds a sense of “…self-agency and mastery over the tasks at hand…and [builds] impressive problem-solving abilities.”

I can attest to the development of these abilities.

My planning skills came to the front once more with my “renovator’s delight” challenge. I knew there was an abundance of work to be done from the back fence to the front kerb, with the house in the middle requiring the most impressive “problem-solving abilities” I could muster.

I was up for the challenge. I had plans and visions. However, being practical, I commenced a spreadsheet to plot tasks, the tools I gradually needed to buy, and the labor required.

However, my most essential tools and techniques, were the visions or imaginings needed for me to “see” the change in my belief system.

Sometimes I hired labor; sometimes, I was solo; sometimes, I bribed people with food. I began the challenge by replacing the back fence and worked my way through the house to the front gardens.

I thrived on the challenge.

Kelly Lambert says effort-based rewards increase our emotional resilience when we’re forced to work for rewards.

My reward was exquisite change. In life, in strength, in an enterprise, in confidence and abilities. A reward from changing a belief in myself.

From the casual question, “what are your plans?”, my credit union manager set me on a path of discovering who I am. I no longer feared debt. By taking on more debt through real estate investments, renovation, and building in the following years, I embraced it.

Working two jobs and living through home renovations was an experience I had to have. The experience transformed my belief system. As the remarkable Henry Ford noted:

“If you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.”

— Henry Ford

I learned incredible lessons about myself, as well as increasing my emotional resilience. I became less concerned about the ‘what’ and more welcoming about the ‘who.’

Changing my belief system was propelled by my desire or wish for something different.

“Wisdom emerging from studies…suggests that experiences that prompt us to ‘work’ the environment for desired outcomes stock our brains’ experiential inventories, leading to more optimistic behavior in the form of prolonged persistence when we’re faced with challenging tasks.” — Kelly Lambert

Another valued lesson I discovered was to treasure your neighbors.

My neighbors helped me with tasks when I struggled.

My neighbors invited me for dinner before they cooked the home-grown produce, I gifted them at the end of an exhausting day.

I silently applauded the change in my mindset and imagined the flavor of the wine I carried as I walked next door to join them for dinner.