Several
decades ago, I began studying goal setting as if my life depended on it. I was
committed to learning anything and everything I could about how to set goals
and "have it all”. I was certain that having it all would bring me a very
deep level of happiness.
My
motivation was the fact that in my twenties I had reached a point where my
greatest goal was to merely get through another day. With many of my childhood
dreams shattered, my life consisted of going to a job I despised, being newly
divorced left with no apparent way to support myself, and living from day to
day wondering if this was it.
More than
three decades ago, all I wanted to do was survive the harsh realities life had
put in front of me. And survive I did. I barely got by each day, feeling like
the world was against me and wondering why all the lucky breaks happened to
others but not to me. I nurtured the belief about how tough life was and as a
result never got any breaks. So much in fact that I lost my assembly-line job
with the inability to get another. I became more disillusioned with each
passing day and felt stuck with no way out.
That is until a small miracle happened. (Reflecting on that day 30 years ago, I would say it was more of a big miracle disguised as something small).


Recent Comments