As a child I felt both excitement and dread as New Years approached. The prospect of staying up past midnight and making lots of noise almost outweighed the apprehension. Almost. Every New Year my family gathered for “Highlights and Resolutions.” I didn’t mind the highlights– each of my five siblings and I shared our favorite experiences from the past year. But my stomach would knot as the highlights wrapped up and Round Two commenced. Resolutions. This part of the ritual began with Mom reading our goals from the previous year out loud. Why did it seem that my focused and disciplined siblings always managed to tick through their goals effortlessly and thoroughly? My cheeks burned as Mom read my unrealized good intentions from twelve months past. It sounded like the sharp rap of a gavel to me. Acting as my own judge and jury, I pronounced the verdict. “Failed.”
Year after year I endured this uncomfortable family tradition and a rebellious loathing for goal setting grew in me (at least public goal setting.) I avoided anything that smacked of “resolution.” Eventually it dawned on me that, in spite of my dismal track record with New Years resolutions, I did live with purpose and focus. The things that mattered to me were rarely quantifiable—not goals that I could write down in a tidy sentence and check off a year later. Soul-making takes effort and measuring my progress was profoundly personal. Comparing my path to the aspirations or achievements of any other person only discouraged me.
Several years ago while driving down the freeway at sixty-five miles per hour I heard my four-year-old daughter squeal from the rear seat. “Stop Mom! Stop! We’re going backwards!” Allie was staring round-eyed out the window on her left. A trucker in a huge semi had barreled up from behind, and was rapidly passing us. The tall, fast-moving side panel of his trailer completely filled Allie’s view. The truck’s speed and size created the illusion that we were moving backwards.
After he passed we laughed at the sensation of going backwards on a busy freeway. But I have never forgotten that moment and the realization that I sometimes gauge my life’s journey with my eyes fixed on the travelers in the lane beside me. I see the speed of their progress and think, “I’m going backwards!” I have to remind myself to drag my eyes back to the road in front of me. Looking ahead I realize that I am moving forward. In fact, I am clipping along in the direction of the dreams I most desire. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is going or how fast he gets there. I'm keeping my eyes on my lane and looking ahead.
How do you avoid the “comparative self-worth” trap?
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