Setting long-range goals

Tuesday, June 18, 2002
Renae Bottom

A few days ago, I was asked to contemplate what my life might be like in 10 years. How did I see myself? What job would I be working? What marvelous accomplishments would line my resume?

I quickly decided that being alive in 10 years was my major goal. I'm no dummy. In these "what if" scenarios, it's best to take care of the "biggies" first.

After that, decisions grew more difficult. Did I want to be rich? Famous?

Live in a small town? Move to a larger city? The possibilities proliferated so quickly, I opted for a different approach.

I got specific and focused on the journey, rather than the destination. How would I get through the next 10 years, one day at a time? I started with my goal for cookouts.

At a rate of two cookouts per week, during the climate-conducive months of May through September, I calculated that I could enjoy approximately 400 more burgers, al fresco, over the next decade.

About four or five times a week, my husband and I get up early for coffee and conversation. We discuss our schedules, the kids, the lawn, the bills, the state of world affairs, the next camping trip and the weather.

In short, we share the kind of time that identifies us as a couple of old, married people. According to my math, we can anticipate approximately 2,080 more sunrise conversations over the next 10 years. I'm up for that.

I want to share 10 more Christmas Eve celebrations with my family, eat cold watermelon at 10 more Fourth of July picnics, and hear the bats crack (even if they are aluminum), during 10 more spring baseball seasons.

I want to tell my kids goodnight, as many times as possible before it's time for them to leave home. For my daughter, that would be just over 1,100 more times. For my son, 3,000-plus good-nights still await.

By consuming one piece of cream pie per month, I calculate that I can savor 1,000 more servings of the flavors I love best -- coconut cream, sour cream raisin, chocolate cream, Boston cream--between now and the year 2012.

I want to hear "Happy Birthday" sung over my cake, 10 more times. I want to sing "Happy Birthday" 10 more times, to all the people that I love.

I want to see my kids find their niche, make the first of their lifelong friends, and work to achieve the things they long for most. Grand-kids? Don't rush me.

I'd like to slice a few thousand more Granny Smith apples, sprinkle them with salt, and savor them at the kitchen table, while I work a few thousand good crossword puzzles.

I hope there'll be no more days like September 11 to mourn. And I hope I don't forget, over the next 10 years, that such violence is part of the daily routine in many parts of the world.

I hope I have the privilege of waking up each morning, making my own decisions, and setting about the pursuits I deem most important for the day, no matter how ordinary they may seem. I want to shop for my own groceries, drive my own car, and pick up my own mail every day.

Becoming rich and famous? It's great work, if you can get it, but it's not for everyone. I'll take cream pie and summer cookouts, early-morning coffee and quiet good-nights, birthday cakes and Sunday crosswords. It might not seem like much in the big scheme of things, but to me, it represents a bright outlook for the next 10 years.

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