There was a time in my life when goal setting came naturally, but then it was gone. When I was young, setting a goal was a matter of thinking about achieving, and then setting out to achieve it. I was moderately successful which I can attribute to this ability to set and work towards goals naturally. Life was much simpler then. I still had my worries and pressures, only looking back they were petty in comparison to today's stresses, and most of the aforementioned worries and pressures still exist. Since then, responsibilities increased, disposable money decreased, and my mind began to clutter with the following; paying bills, quarterly reviews, making lunches for the kids, cleaning the crumbs off the counter (my wife's favourite), flossing as well as brushing, checking my balls for lumps (men you gotta do this), and on and on and on. I'm sure you get the picture. Setting goals, once so natural and flowing, takes effort and concentration. Write down my Goals you say, get stuffed...well maybe not!
My twenties proved to me that not setting out clear plans of action, reviewing them, and achieving them was easily done, with shitty results. I did a lot of great things in my twenties- married my wonderful wife, started my family, bought a house, and travelled the world. But there were areas where achievements flat lined. Entering my thirties I really started to notice how my hunger to achieve had never left me, but my confidence to achieve was a shadow of its former self.
After a period of introspection, and a series of personal coaching sessions at my former employer, I started to make a few revelations. Setting goals in my mind and following through on them had gotten harder to do with the added clutter and stresses of life. In turn, this effected my confidence to succeed which lead to less goal setting, effecting my confidence (the circle begins, you get the point).
Guess what happened next? I thought I'd make a change. I wrote down a few goals, starting simply with physical goals. I moved on to goals at work, goals with education, and so on. I wrote them down, revisited them often, and behold...I started to achieve them. Confidence began returning, goal setting increased, leading to confidence (again the circle begins, you're catching on fast!). This was great! What all those goal setting gurus were trying to tell me all along was correct. You need to write down your goals.
I am now a firm believer. Writing down goals for me takes many forms. Sometimes it's in my diary, sometimes on any paper that happens to be around. Some are very specific, some are a bit more vague (against what many say). I've even made a goal list of things I want to achieve this year, written in this blog 35 things to do at 35. I'm getting these things done too. It helps that they are written here for all to see, and in an easy format for me to review every time I open this blog. This reminds me, I better get working on #30. Kids are now up and out of bed. Time for a good laugh!
Set goals people, and write them down. I am sure you will be pleased with the results!
Here's a good place to start if you want to know a bit more about setting goals. I've been reading The Success Principles by Jack Cranfield. There is a lot of useful information goal setting. If you are so inclined, this book and Jack's website is worth having a look at. Enjoy!
Thursday 14 June 2012
Thursday 7 June 2012
The pressure to keep up with the lil' Joneses
If you are a parent, you can probably relate to what follows...no matter what side you are on!
We walked to school yesterday, all three of us -daughter, son and I. To be most accurate, I walked while they raced along on their scooters, constantly setting new finishing lines. This is a common game amongst them usually beginning with a line like, "first one to the light pole," and ending with one of them crying because they lost the race and the race was "no fair." The tears and feelings of being duped soon disappear as the next finishing line is created and the race begins again. Along the way I noticed my son neighing and pointing what appeared to be a fake spear in the air. When I asked him what he was doing he told me he was one of those half-man-half-horse-Greek-guys and was rushing off to attack the baddies. This then lead on to discussions about Poseidon, his trident, Hercules, and a Griffin from Hairy Potter, all in the matter of about 30 seconds.
As he galloped off again, a Centaur on in his latest battle to save Narnia, I was content in the knowledge that my son was happy and curious and innocent. Reality slapped me in the face at about 8:57 a.m. when we arrived at the school. At this exact moment, when my son was entering the classroom through a forest of tiny kids and lurking "oh-can-I-speak-to-you-teacher"-parents, I heard the following phrase leave the teacher's mouth as she talked to an over concerned mother: "In two weeks they will be doing their writing tests which will determine what group they enter in to next year." At this point I will pause to explain to those of you who are not familiar with this concept - apologies to those who already know and hate this as much as me and pity on those who think this is a great idea.
For those of you new to this parenting thing, or just reading this for the hell of it, at the tender age of 6, kids are tested on their reading, writing, and maths ability (at least in UK area where we live). Based on these test, they are then positioned in differing cohorts, in the next year of school. These different cohorts are then taught according to their perceived abilities. As a parent this makes total sense to me. As a parent this also sickens me to no end.
In a world where keeping up with the Joneses is important, even my son needs to worry about keeping up with their little'uns. Or does he? Really, is it him that feels he has to keep up with the little Joneses, or me who thinks he does?
I already know the answer. He could care less. It makes no difference to him what score he gets or what group he ends up in (as long as his mates are in it). It is only me that is worried about this. I am surrounded by the ubiquitous concept that keeping up with others is what is important in this life. I don't like this. I don't like that it happens, and I don't like that I feel I need to keep up with others. I like even less that these feelings of mine are being transferred on to my sons little shoulders.
I must try to overcome these feelings. I will not set my son extra evening tasks to ensure he fits in to the model of learning that will get him in the "achievers" cohort- trust me I know others do this (BARF). What I will do is this: encourage him to learn the way he wants to and hope that he remains happy enough in school to make it through the next ten years of his life there (to some kids this must sound like a jail sentence- with remedial jail time at home).
Good luck to the Joneses!
We walked to school yesterday, all three of us -daughter, son and I. To be most accurate, I walked while they raced along on their scooters, constantly setting new finishing lines. This is a common game amongst them usually beginning with a line like, "first one to the light pole," and ending with one of them crying because they lost the race and the race was "no fair." The tears and feelings of being duped soon disappear as the next finishing line is created and the race begins again. Along the way I noticed my son neighing and pointing what appeared to be a fake spear in the air. When I asked him what he was doing he told me he was one of those half-man-half-horse-Greek-guys and was rushing off to attack the baddies. This then lead on to discussions about Poseidon, his trident, Hercules, and a Griffin from Hairy Potter, all in the matter of about 30 seconds.
As he galloped off again, a Centaur on in his latest battle to save Narnia, I was content in the knowledge that my son was happy and curious and innocent. Reality slapped me in the face at about 8:57 a.m. when we arrived at the school. At this exact moment, when my son was entering the classroom through a forest of tiny kids and lurking "oh-can-I-speak-to-you-teacher"-parents, I heard the following phrase leave the teacher's mouth as she talked to an over concerned mother: "In two weeks they will be doing their writing tests which will determine what group they enter in to next year." At this point I will pause to explain to those of you who are not familiar with this concept - apologies to those who already know and hate this as much as me and pity on those who think this is a great idea.
For those of you new to this parenting thing, or just reading this for the hell of it, at the tender age of 6, kids are tested on their reading, writing, and maths ability (at least in UK area where we live). Based on these test, they are then positioned in differing cohorts, in the next year of school. These different cohorts are then taught according to their perceived abilities. As a parent this makes total sense to me. As a parent this also sickens me to no end.
In a world where keeping up with the Joneses is important, even my son needs to worry about keeping up with their little'uns. Or does he? Really, is it him that feels he has to keep up with the little Joneses, or me who thinks he does?
I already know the answer. He could care less. It makes no difference to him what score he gets or what group he ends up in (as long as his mates are in it). It is only me that is worried about this. I am surrounded by the ubiquitous concept that keeping up with others is what is important in this life. I don't like this. I don't like that it happens, and I don't like that I feel I need to keep up with others. I like even less that these feelings of mine are being transferred on to my sons little shoulders.
I must try to overcome these feelings. I will not set my son extra evening tasks to ensure he fits in to the model of learning that will get him in the "achievers" cohort- trust me I know others do this (BARF). What I will do is this: encourage him to learn the way he wants to and hope that he remains happy enough in school to make it through the next ten years of his life there (to some kids this must sound like a jail sentence- with remedial jail time at home).
Good luck to the Joneses!
Tuesday 15 May 2012
As this is my first blog, I will keep it simple. Starting a blog has been on my mind for some time now. I have always wanted to write down my thoughts, hoping that what I have to say is worth listening to (at least by someone)! I guess that my reason for finally starting this blog is that I may have found something worth writing about.
I am many things, but I am definitely the following a) a father of two beautiful young children b) a confused man in search of answers c) a father who can not always answer the questions my children ask. My suspicion is that there are others out there like me.
I am many things, but I am definitely the following a) a father of two beautiful young children b) a confused man in search of answers c) a father who can not always answer the questions my children ask. My suspicion is that there are others out there like me.
35 things to do at 35
I turned 35 on Sunday. I have been experiencing, for the last year or so, what some may call a mid-life crisis. I have left my old job and started a new career, rekindled my passion for healthy living and fitness (minus the odd beer binge) and have taken a keen interest in the phenomenon of lifestyle design. I want to change my life... for the better. This is a mid-life crisis to some.
I Call It... My Mid-Life Renaissance
So I am about to make a few changes in my life to make me a better person. I have thus compiled a list of 35 things that I intend to do during my 35th year on this earth. Some are banal. Some are bold (I would be bolder but needing to provide for my wife and two children has kept these on the safe side). Some seem next to impossible. But here goes
1. Read a new book every two weeks.
2. Volunteer @ a charity.
3. Take my son camping in the woods(not at a campsite, IN THE WOODS).
4. Minimalise my wardrobe.
5. Build a tree house with the kids in our backyard.
6. Chisel my abs into a Six Pack (I will admit this is purely a vane pursuit).
7. Cycle from Oxfordshire to London.
8.Do a Triathlon.
9. Write a blog - I am off to a flying start.
10. BE NICER TO EVERYONE AROUND ME!
11. Build a raft with my children and float it down a river.
12. Climb Snowdonia with my wife.
14. Speak in public (to a minimum of 30 people).
15. Write at least one hand written letter per month to family or a friend.
17. Call my life-long friends more often.
18. Learn to roll a kayak.
19. Take my children camping and build fires, catch bugs, whittle sticks and get absolutely filthy-showers only allowed on the last day before returning to civilisation.
20. Restore old furniture.
21. Complete a multi-disciplined adventure race.
22. Coach a team-sons, daughters.
23. Grow food in my garden.
24. Spend less time on Facebook.
25. Learn a new language. 26. Practise my French.
27. Introduce fasting in to my diet.
28. Trace my family in Scotland.
29. Practise a martial art (Jiu-Jitsu or Judo).
30. Laugh with my children daily.
31. Take my wife out on more dates.
32. Write an article for a newspaper.
33. Make healthy, homemade food with my family.
34. Take my children ice skating.
35. Plan an around the world trip for the family
(At least begin the plan and hope to execute before I turn 40).
I have 363 days to complete these tasks. I best get started.
P.S. If anyone out there wants to help me achieve this, please let me know.
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