Where You Are vs Where You Want To Be

Some thoughts on changing lanes.

In December of 2012, I made a Google Drive document for my New Year's resolutions called "2013 Goals". Some were more substantial (finish writing the web series, record an EP, etc.) and others were more frivolous (get a new tattoo), but in totality, they were my north star for making sure I absolutely owned 2013.

One year later, I opened up that document, read through my list, and instead of crossing anything off of it, I just went up to the title and replaced 2013 with 2014.

Then I did the same thing in 2015. And again in 2016.

And somewhere along the way, that became the central narrative of my life: the list of things I hadn't accomplished.

Even though I'm much better at setting (and tracking!) goals now, there's a much larger issue that persists. And it all comes down to perception. To this day, I have a tendency to define myself by my failures. As a result, even though I've largely done away with the idea of New Year's resolutions, this can still be a difficult time of year for me.

As we all look to the year ahead and take stock of the one that's winding down, it's so very easy to dwell on the goals we didn't hit. The situations that didn't change. The problems we haven't solved.

And not for lack of trying, right? Holy hell, what an especially shitty feeling that is — when you've thrown everything you've got at something and it still doesn't work out. That's not how it's supposed to go. You did everything right. Why does it feel like you keep getting punished for having the audacity to try?

On top of that, it becomes impossible not to fixate on everyone who did accomplish what you couldn't. And how fucking easy they made it look. You start to wonder why you're struggling so hard with something that seems to come so naturally to them.

I want you to try something. And please, if you relate to any part of what I've just described, don't just read the next couple of paragraphs and move on. The value isn't in simply understanding the point I'm about to make, because on some level you already know this. What’s important here is that you actually feel it.

So take out a sheet of paper and draw a line down the middle of it. On the left side, write down what you think your biggest failures were this past year. Don't hold back. Purge that shit. No one else is going to see this.

Once you’ve finished, move over to the right side of the line and write down everything you've accomplished. I like to keep the left side covered up as I do this. It doesn’t matter how big or small the accomplishments are. But again, don’t hold back. And don't be surprised if this list takes longer to make. Like, a lot longer. This side is always more difficult for me.

Another thing to keep in mind is that these lists don't have to have an equal number of items on them. And if you’re really struggling, you can open this up to the past five years instead of just one. That's what I did the first time I performed this exercise.

All done?

You now have two ways of framing the exact same span of time. You can define it by the failures. Or, you can define it by the successes.

If you're anything like me, the left side is the easier choice. That's where I'll always drift if I don't force myself to sit down, think about it, and externalize it like this.

But when I've got this piece of paper in front of me, it's like having an aerial view of a highway. The right lane has a real sense of forward momentum. The left lane's a traffic jam. But that line in between them isn't a concrete barrier, it's just a pavement marker. You can merge at any time.

This isn’t self-help wu wu, it’s a practical way to force a shift in perspective and take ownership over the story you’re telling yourself about your own life.

I had a difficult year. I’ve spent the last few weeks feeling pretty miserable about where I thought I’d be as 2022 was coming to a close vs where I am. So I made my lists. I wrote the first one through tears. And with a lot of anger. The second list felt like pulling teeth at first, but it wound up being much longer than I’d expected.

I took in that aerial view. And then I made a choice to change lanes.

Take care, friends. Talk to you soon.