Making Goals That Fit Your Life (Not an Idealized Version of It)

 Let’s be real: goal setting can feel out of reach right now.

If you’re in survival mode, you’re not alone. Whether that looks like burnout, doomscrolling, numbing out, or constantly organizing—this moment is heavy. You’re carrying a lot. Many of us are.

I’ve used goal setting as a coping tool since I was a teenager. Not in a hustle-culture, climb-the-ladder way, but in a “how do I get through this and stay connected to what matters?” way. It's helped me anchor in times of chaos, grief, and transition. And still, I’ve been wondering: is goal setting even the right conversation right now?

For some people, the answer is no—and I fully respect that. Sometimes the kindest goal is rest, silence, or simply surviving. 

But for others, especially those holding both grief and longing, I believe there’s still room to imagine and build something. Small, gentle, meaningful goals can help us remember what makes life worth living. They can reconnect us to our joy, our people, and our power.

When I Let My Real Desires Lead

Years ago, I had a goal that felt too weird and specific to say out loud: I wanted to be in something I imagined but wasn't sure I could find - a community performance group that made joyful noise for justice. I craved music, movement, community and purpose—but had no idea where to start.

Then I saw Fogo Azul: a stunning, all-women and trans/nonbinary drumline at Brooklyn Pride. My heart lit up. I found out they were running a new member series, signed up, and was immediately hooked. Despite having a young child and very little time for myself, I joined. It was a dream I didn’t know I was allowed to have.

I drummed with them for a couple years. Parades. Protests. The (virtual) Macy’s Day Parade. Through snow, summer and COVID. 

Then, my body started breaking down. I was often dizzy. Exhausted. I had to sit out mid-performance, ask buddies to watch me, leave early. Eventually, I was diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and Mast Cell Activation Syndrome. My immune and nervous systems were maxed out. I had to focus on healing. I had to quit.

It was a heartbreaking loss—not just of a goal achieved, but of a version of myself I loved.

Rediscovering a Dream, Gently

Last month, I spotted a few women drumming at a local protest in the Hudson Valley. They called themselves The Persisters. They weren’t a performance group. Just a small band of resisters with bucket drums, showing up.

I joined them. Made my own drum. Marched again.

I didn’t need to memorize complicated rhythms. I could take breaks. No one expected perfection. And when I got home, drenched in rain but lit up, I noticed something: I had more energy. I was kinder to my family. I made a real dinner. Returned a phone call. I felt alive again.

This wasn’t a shiny Instagram moment. It was quiet liberation.

So I’m rediscovering my dream, in a new form.

I've decided, in this difficult political moment, to rededicate myself to the craft of goal setting—not as a hustle, not as a path to perfection, but as a practice of care, liberation, and staying in touch with what matters to me. 

I’ve always used writing to help me think. Over the next while, as I restle with my evolving craft of goal setting, I’ll be sharing some of my thoughts on Goal Setting for Liberation through blog posts.

If you want to stay in the loop, you can sign up for my email list. I’ll send out blog posts as I write them, and I’ll also share updates when I begin offering goal setting workshops again.

No pressure—just an open invitation to stay connected, if and when it feels right.