This Year, Forget Your Goals and Begin Living the Life You Were Meant to Live!

A goal-driven life can be as damning as it is rewarding — are you putting too much at risk?

For the last few years, every January, I’ve written a new article about the importance of goals. I’ve talked about how to set them, measure them, and make them time-bound. I’ve compared someone without goals to a ship without a destination, or a traveler without a map.

I wrote those articles because I believed in the effectiveness of goals, in the power and logic of deciding what you want from life and concentrating all your resources on achieving it.

And yes, over the last fifty years, I’ve achieved many of the goals I set. I’ve also experienced the disappointment of realizing a particular goal would never be accomplished — because I’d run out of time, and the opportunity no longer existed.

It’s those personal experiences — fifty years of setting goals and pursuing them — that motivated me to look back on my life with a different perspective.

Bottom line . . . this year, I won’t be setting any goals.

I realize such an about-face is tantamount to throwing away one of the basic building blocks of success — especially with goal-setting regarded as an almost magical panacea to achieving financial security, personal fulfillment, and a sense of meaning from your life.

I’m familiar with the arguments. Hell, I wrote some of those arguments.

Yes, I was a believer. I preached the benefits of setting goals because we’re supposed to have goals. Having goals makes us more productive. And most important, without them, we leave our life-path and eventual destination in the hands of others, who typically don’t have our best interests in mind.

So why am I suggesting you try a year or two without them?

Because goals can be a cruel substitute for deriving meaning and satisfaction from life.

Even worse, I know plenty of folks who use their goals to create bragging rights, and more often, a rationalization for their current circumstances.

“Yeah, I’m involved in this corporate gig right now, but my goal is to start my own company, to call the shots and be my own boss. Another five or ten years, after I’ve saved enough money, and the last kid is out of the house, then my real life can start.”

In other words, goals allow us to place emphasis and focus on the future.

It’s all about what’s going to happen . . . tomorrow.

For many, it’s that ability to push their hopes and dreams into some vague future that gives them the courage to slog through another day of exchanging time for money. Stuck in a job they hate, goal-setting becomes a therapeutic process, a way to rationalize the morning ritual of dropping to their knees and licking the boots of the corporate hierarchy while telling themselves it’s only temporary because their goals will eventually set them free. These folks use goal-setting as a figurative drug that, over time, becomes the rationale for spending the best thirty years of their lives in drudgery.

In the most pathetic examples of living a goal-cloaked life, the poor working stiff buys a start-up kit, takes night classes in accounting, creates a business plan, and never uses any of it — except to whitewash the future with a pale shade of daydream fantasy.

Their goals have become a lie — and they live that lie every day.

But wait!

What if you’re one of those people who is a serious goal-setter, regularly setting new, challenging goals and accomplishing your objectives?

You’re not pretending. You’re the real deal. You’re in this to win, and you’re ready to do whatever it takes to accomplish your dreams. For you, it’s all or nothing. You’ll willingly risk your financial security, reduce your family relationships to a lesser priority, and tolerate persistent rejection until you get what you want.

If any of that description rings true, I have a message for you . . .

I was just like you.

I was sure that with enough specific planning and concentrated action, I would build a better life — one that reflected my priorities and ambitions.

After fifty years of using goals to manage my time and resources, here’s what I learned:

The satisfaction I received from accomplishing a major goal was temporary. And it was often followed by feelings of emptiness and disappointment. It wasn’t long before I had to find a new challenge, a new chase. The result? I maintained a relentless cycle of setting and achieving new goals, which, in turn, fueled a constant state of dissatisfaction.

Living a goal-oriented life demands strict adherence to predefined plans. This mindset — often described as discipline — reduces the possibility of exploring new options or participating in spontaneous opportunities. By focusing exclusively on the outcome of my goals, I missed out on the experiences and meaningful connections that were mine to enjoy — if I’d only given myself permission to appreciate them.

Goals come with expectations. The more specific those expectations, the more pressure to accomplish them — even when the price is measured in heightened stress, anxiety, and a sense of failure when goals remain unattained. Zealous goal-setters can easily find themselves living a binary life: If I accomplish my goals, I’m a success. If I don’t, I’m a failure.”

Unfortunately, living your life as an all-or-nothing proposition is setting yourself up for massive regret when you reach the point of realizing you’re not going to be the star in the movie of your life.

I’ve found a bitter-sweet irony in having lived a goal-focused life.

I always considered it a noble endeavor — identifying what I wanted from life and focusing my energy and efforts toward attaining it. Giving up family activities, social involvements, and the spiritual aspects of my life was simply part of the process. I remember promising myself I would make time for those “lesser” priorities later on, after I’d achieved my dreams.

But “later on” has come and gone, and at age seventy-three, I wish I could tell you that I have a lot of catching up to do. But it isn’t possible. Those I needed to spend time with the most — those who needed me the most — are gone.

Time moved on . . . and it took them with it.

I can hear your comments now . . . That won’t happen to me. I have control over my time. And I’m determined to keep the most important aspects of my life in balance.

Sure you are.

There’s an illusion about living a balanced life that few of us like to consider: If you’re going to pursue a challenging goal, your life will be in constant conflict. Forced to choose between a goal-oriented activity and spending time with family, socializing with friends, or pursuing a spiritual interest, you’ll feel the guilt and frustration of having to give something up.

So you make your decision — and hope your loved ones will understand.

How bad can it get? I’ve known many fervent goal-setters — including myself — who intentionally discounted the good things that happened to them because the accomplishments were unrelated to their goals. If the raises, advancements, and promotions weren’t the result of pursuing a goal, it didn’t count. It was as if these advantages and opportunities arrived out of sequence — premature.

Said another way, I was so distracted by my goals, I couldn’t appreciate the positive things that were already a part of my life.

“I can’t take the time to enjoy and appreciate that promotion at work . . . I’m too busy concentrating on my goal to be a best-selling author. “

I remember saying that — more than once.

The alternative to a goal-oriented life?

I’m exploring it.

I believe it lies in a more holistic approach, one that emphasizes personal values and self-discovery. In the process, I’m also taking a hard look at how our culture defines success, and whether that definition has anything to do with me. So far, I’m finding lots of conflicts.

For example, I never set a goal of being fully engaged in the moment and recognizing the needs of others I encountered along the way.

Why not?

Why wasn’t there some part of me that recognized my responsibility to help those who needed it most?

“The needs of others are a distraction.”

I remember a seminar leader telling me that. I was in my mid-twenties and wanted to learn as much about success as possible. The instructor also cautioned us about getting off track, about taking our eyes off the prize, about considering the needs of others instead of working on personal goals. “After you’ve achieved everything you want,” he added, “then you’ll be in a much better position to help. But right now, “You need to concentrate on success, and ignore everything else.”

Ignore everything else.

In goal-setting parlance, that meant my mindset, behavior, and actions had to be solely directed to accomplish the things I’d identified as most important — to me!

It doesn’t take much to make the transition . . . if goals are inherently self-important, they’re also selfish.

If I could do it all over again . . .

I’d build in some guardrails.

I’d establish some priorities for the people in my life.

And then, I’d ask the hard questions: For example, if I lost the respect, the admiration, and the affection of my wife, but accomplished my goals, is that acceptable? Or is the price too high?

What about a son? Or a daughter? Or a close friend or relative?

You tell me . . . where would you draw the line?

It’s the unpleasant side of goal-setting that’s seldom talked about . . . How much are you willing to risk — to lose — to bring about the changes you supposedly want?

Finally, I would take a detailed inventory of all the positive things in my life — the relationships, the activities, and the places that bring me a sense of peace and well-being. And I would make my first priority to protect those things at all costs.

So, as you pull out last year’s goals and fume and fuss over your lack of progress or blame your lack of advancement on the economy, keep this in mind:

A goal-driven life comes with a very real paradox …

Success may be the objective, but the relentless pursuit of goals can easily lead to burnout and a diminished quality of life.

And for those who see their goals as the only option that will provide them with the kind of life they want to live, the cost, in terms of personal relationships and lost opportunities, can render the final outcome — even when the goal is achieved — hollow and unfulfilling.

I’ll leave you with this:

I was a goal-setting addict. Goals were my drug of choice. Completely seduced by the idea that I could change my life by following a self-designed plan of transition, I relied on my goals to provide a compelling and rewarding future.

At the time, it made sense. My life. My future. My plan.

And while I achieved the majority of the objectives I set for myself, I’ve often wondered if I ended up with far less than I started with.

Yes, my goals provided me with direction, but they put the emphasis on the destination, not the journey.

And it is the journey — the one I could have taken — that I miss the most.

No goal is worth turning your back on the life you could have lived to pursue a life that is never achieved. — Roger Reid

© 2024 Roger Reid. All Rights Reserved.

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Roger A. Reid, Ph.D. is the author of Better Mondays, Speak Up, and The Takeaway, and host of Success Point 360 Podcast. A certified NLP trainer with degrees in engineering and business, Roger offers tips and strategies for achieving higher levels of career success and personal fulfillment in the real world.