What is living, without goals?

Greetings from Newport, Rhode Island

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Dear friend — 

Are goals over?

I’m talking, specifically, about personal goal setting. Have you noticed that many goals that were de rigueur not too long ago are now considered uncool? The idea of striving to hit a goal weight, for example, has lost favor in the public eye — to the point that even Weight Watchers has thought of rebranding to get rid of the word “weight.”

Once we set goals to pay off our student loan debt. Now we say fuck that, the government should forgive student loan debt already. Once we set goals to make more and save more money. Now we say enough already, tax the rich!

It seems healthy, this abandonment of goals that had the odds stacked against us anyway. On the other hand, getting rid of goals brings up a lot of existential questions, namely: How do you live now?

What does your life even mean, if you’re not working toward anything?

For most of my life, I was a devout goal setter. I had weight goals, money goals, career goals, relationship goals, writing goals. Every morning I journaled obsessively about these goals, assessing whether I was getting closer or further from them, trying to keep myself on track. I had goals even for stuff I ostensibly did to relax, like yoga (must be able to do a 5-minute headstand by X date!). 

Vacation and travel came with their own set of goals. Not only did I need to be out there to see and experience all I could of the place I was visiting while making new friends, I also had to keep up my workout routine and stick to whatever restrictive diet I was attempting at the moment. Oh, and of course, I had to write more — a lot more — treating the vacation as a sort of intense writing residency.

I think it was because of all these pressures I put on myself that for a long time, I didn’t think I particularly enjoyed travel.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I really started to ask: What have these goals actually done for me, besides make me miserable?

Slowly, I started shedding goals. I stopped trying to control my weight. I stopped tracking my budget so carefully. I stopped trying so hard to create the types of relationships that I thought I should have. I stopped setting career goals. I stopped coming up with aggressive or even lax writing schedules for finishing a story, an essay, a novel.

And nothing bad happened.

In fact, a lot of good things happened. Quitting dieting in all forms was probably the single decision that made me maybe 1000% happier and freer — the difference between abject dieting misery and contented food freedom is just a willingness to gain about 10-15 lbs, I discovered. I found great relationships and experiences came my way without my trying so hard to find them. In the past, when I was between jobs, I’d set firm goals about how much time and effort I’d put in looking for a new one. This time, I did nothing, and a perfect one — all remote, better salary, with a mission I vibed with and a culture I wanted to be part of — was offered to me.

Is this perhaps how I should have lived all my life?

I realize I’m writing this from a privileged position. Not everyone has savings that let them chill out for a while without looking for a job, or skills in an industry that happens to be hiring, among other things. What I’m saying though, is that when I got rid of goals, the material facts of my life stayed much the same while my mood improved dramatically.

A couple Saturdays ago, I got into Newport, Rhode Island, for a 5-day vacation. I had no goals beyond eating a lot of seafood. I ate oysters and striped bass and lobster. I hiked the Cliff Walk, a gorgeous 3.5-mile hike along the eastern shore. The weather was perfect, the water picturesque, turning glassy green, then deep blue. 

Newport is a cute coastal town that was a lot busier and livelier than I’d expected. Guidebooks described the place as one for New England “aristocracy” and “royalty” — which I’d for some reason taken to mean that it was a place that attracted an older crowd. There were some retirees there, but a lot of young people on the streets too, for their summer getaways and bachelorette parties. Shops on Thames street catered to them with fluttery sundresses and bejeweled flip flops and margaritas and burritos. 

“It’s nice just to not have to do anything!” I kept thinking.

There’s still that thought that nags at me sometimes. Without goals, what am I even doing? How will I accomplish anything? 

Will I ever publish a book again?

And if I don’t, does that matter?

Tell me about your goals, or the lack thereof.

Love,

Siel

On the Cliff Walk in Newport

Three links you might love:

1. Why Black solo female travel is a radical act. “Solo travel has given me far more than it has taken away, and it has always reminded me of my power in a world that so often serves to make me, as a black woman, feel small and powerless,” writes Georgina Lawton in The Guardian.

2. America’s drinking alone problem. “Americans tend to drink in more dysfunctional ways than people in other societies, only to become judgmental about nearly any drinking at all,” writes Kate Julian in The Atlantic.

3. The sexist scam of online dating. “I believe online dating has made single women overall less happy, less likely to find a long-term partner, and more at risk of sexual violence” writes Nancy Jo Sales in The Guardian. 

   

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