I’ve been thinking a lot about goals, as we barrel through the holidays toward New Year’s. I’ve already participated in one planning session for 2026, and I have another one on the 28th. Something feels different for me this year.
Here’s something I heard recently: A goal is only a tool to motivate you to action.
A set of goals is like a roadmap for a place you’ve never explored before: you imagine a path given what you can see of the landscape. But most of the journey lies just over the hill, out of sight. And it won't look like what you expected. Like a Lidar map of a shifting river, the terrain constantly changes.
I’m good at setting goals—which, for me, consists of writing lists. I like to control the future by scribbling it into tiny boxes on paper.
A Lidar map of a shifting riverbed
But completing goals? That’s another story. Very few of my goals are compelling enough to hold my attention all the way. Despite all the cheerleading or shaming to keep myself going; despite all the caffeine, overcommitting, procrastinating, consuming bad news, whatever it takes to generate an adrenalin boost, the only thing that guarantees completion is passion. I have to want to do it.
That’s why I’m able to write the first draft of a book in 8 weeks (obsessed with the subject), while my goal to lose ten pounds never gets done (I don’t really care). Why I can finish a tough commission for a client (to get paid and appreciated) and rarely work on my own paintings (less of a payoff).
But what if we want something badly, yet we feel blocked? That painting series burning in my mind that I can’t seem to get to. The children’s book about a child and a dragon that calls to me from the bottom of my to-do list. The novel I couldn’t get an agent for that wakes me up in the night with new edits (that I never complete).
A digital concept for a painting I wanted to do next, titled "Map of the Butterfly."
Although sometimes I’m tired or hungry, or my schedule is too full, for me, the block is usually mental. I cancarve more time out of my schedule to paint; I don’t because I’m not sure about the why. So, I erect the usual obstacles and tell myself I have no control over them. Not enough time, nowhere to show it, it won’t be good anyway, why bother.
Yes, I have those thoughts, too.
This year, I want to do things differently. Instead of making lists that overwhelm, I’m going to focus on self-care. Instead of setting huge goals, I’m going to take small actions. A host of lessons I learned this year informed this approach. Some came from classes, books, and coaches. Some came from my own experience. I’m creating a new roadmap—one that is slow, gentle, and steady.
A character map illustration I did for Tokyo Disney Seas Hotel Miracosta.
Want to join me? I’m offering a creative goals workshop on January 6. In this 2-hour online session, we’ll sketch a roadmap for creative projects in 2026. You don’t have to be a creative to benefit--but you'll learn how to use creativity to reach your destination.
Only $25 if you sign up before January 1st.
You being present helps me in my journey, too. Let’s do this together!
I just ran across Anthony Theakston's beautiful bird sculptures in this Colossal article. He sculpts herons, hummingbirds and others, but my favorites are his owls. Their forms swoop and curve like the shape of flight. He has a couple of shows coming up in 2026 in Europe and Florida--not on my radar this year, but you never know.
