As time goes on, my drive to accomplish the goals that I had set for myself from years past has slowly faded. I had once aspired to be a painter, an artist, but it has never materialized. Routines and patterns have set in in terms of work schedule, sleep schedule, social events, etc., and at the end of the day, there is little time left to pursue them.
Of course, what we want to accomplish in life (and what can be accomplished) depends on what we define as our goals, and if they’re grand or simple. For example, are we making it our goal to win the lottery or to write a book? Are we making it a goal to be infamous or to do something that matters? Are we aiming for the statistically slim, or the doable–what’s within our means?
In hindsight, not achieving everything I had set for myself from years past has worked out. Some of the things I aspired to achieve no longer interest me. For example, I discovered other things that interested me, like literature and writing. Rather, those things that interested me in my youth mattered for me then, but not as much now, since I have a new perspective and understanding of myself and the world. I find that writing allows my thoughts and ideas to flow more naturally, whereas with painting or drawing, I’m continuously struggling to fix meticulous errors and mistakes, trying to get the proportions and lines just right.
There comes a time when we realize that we probably won’t be famous or exceedingly wealthy, but we will have what we need at the end of the day. Time limits us to what we can set out to do, and the number of the things we can accomplish. We’re ultimately faced with the task of narrowing down our dreams and goals to the bare essential, and that inevitably winds up being what is meaningful to us–what defines us.
Fallton Havenstonne 