2024: New Year, (some) New Goals

An Unnecessarily In-Depth Explanation of How I Set Yearly Goals

It's a new year, which means that for me, it's time for a new set of annual goals. (These are NOT resolutions. Resolutions are fuzzy and vague, usually cliché things like "lose weight" or "be happier" or "achieve world peace". Goals are things that you can actually aim at, and with enough practice, hit.)

I started formally setting and tracking yearly targets a few years ago, and while I won't call it the cure to all that ails me, it's certainly been a helpful practice. And hey, 'tis the season for everyone's "how I set goals" posts, so who am I to rock the boat?

The TL;DR

I usually start this process sometime in December, whenever the urge to wrap up the current year and look towards the new one starts to itch me. (Incidentally, this is almost the exact same process I use when doing monthly goals, just with less introspection/review.)

It goes something like this:

• Review the areas of my life and how things went over the last year.
• Review last year's goals - what I hit, what I didn't, what needed changing part way through the year when it became apparent I'd picked an over-ambitious target/something I didn't actually care about, that kind of thing.
• Do a brain dump of all the things I want to do next year. Delegate them by life area.
• Refine the brain dump over a few days, until I have a reasonable number of targets to aim for over the coming year.
• Break those targets down into the things I'll need to do to actually reach the goal I'm aiming for.

Review Last Year

I'll be honest, sometimes I do this after I've worked out the shiny new goals for next year. But I always try to do some form of yearly review, even if it's just a short, half-assed version of the "ideal".

I currently use a (heavily simplified) version of the practice laid out in Alex Vermeer's 8,760 Hours Guide for this step. Finding Alex's guide to use as a springboard was extremely helpful for me. I'd tried doing yearly reviews before, but they never really "stuck" or felt like they were worth the time. For whatever reason, 8,760 Hours was the guide that worked for me.

That being said, I've modified the review framework (usually by removing things) every year I've used it. Alex's guide is super in-depth - he takes a full week to do his review, and he goes hard. While I like to think I'm that kind of person, I'm really not. Some of the review questions and Life Areas Alex uses aren't applicable to me, so I removed or combined things where it made sense. While I love complexity (the PKM scene is like pseudo-academic catnip to my dopamine receptors), at the end of the day I need simplicity - something that both On The Ball Me and Off With The Fairies Me can do.

In the (checks notes) four years I've been using his guide as a framework, I've reduced Alex's twelve life areas down to eight. I've also removed, modified, and combined a LOT of the questions in each Deep Dive. (I removed two more while I was doing this year's review, in fact.) My ultimate goal is to get it down to where I can complete the entire review in about a day, while still feeling like I got my money's worth from the time spent navel-gazing instead of eating gingerbread and knitting.

Brain Dump

Reviewing one's past actions is great and helpful and definitely a path to world peace or Ultimate Effectiveness or whatever, but for me, the brain dump is where the rubber hits the road. I always start my longer-term planning with a list of things I want to do, whether it's for the year or the month. It's essentially a real-life version of "What could happen next?", the question I ask myself whenever I'm running out of plot in my fiction work.

This question is designed to be a free-for-all. I don't let little things like the space-time continuum get in the way at first - it's just one big bullet list of things I've been dying to get to, things that have been bugging me that I want to fix, and usually a few things I feel obliged to add (because I know they're important, but I'm not really enthused about them). Most of the time I've got the first list version finished in ten to fifteen minutes.

(Sometimes there's one specific pile of stuff that's bugging me, making it hard to focus on grander things. (Usually it's the fact that the WIP pile has blown out again, or the house has reached an ill-defined but completely unacceptable level of disrepute. This year it was both.) When that happens, I brain dump all that first, in a separate list. That usually shuts up the brain weasels, and frees up enough mental RAM to get the bigger picture/longer term stuff down.)

Refine the Brain Dump

Once I've got everything down, I keep the list open on my computer and let it percolate for a few days. This lets my subconscious chew on it while I add, remove, and change things. This year's brain dump list ended up with 22 items. That's a typical number for me (the most I've had is 25, the least is 19.) Some are pretty modest, but most are things that will take a fair chunk of the year and my dedication to accomplish (as befits yearly goals).

I also work out which buckets/life areas things fit into - there's usually clear distinctions for most goals (writing, fibre arts, health and fitness etc). If there's lots of goals in one or two areas, and only a couple in others, then that's a pretty good clue about what my next year is going to focus on. 

Next comes the hard part - triage.

The first triage step is trying to narrow my "I definitely want to do this thing" choices down as much as possible. This is hard. Everything on the big list is shiny and new and feels so important and urgent right now. That's why I keep the list open after I've made it - looking at it frequently, but not necessarily actively engaging with it, helps my subconscious start to pick favourites. Even so, I'm doing well if I've narrowed the list by half after the first pass.

The second triage step is working out how many of my goals are process-oriented, and how many are product-focused. Process goals involve doing a thing on a regular basis, or for a certain amount of time, every {time period}. Weave for 2.5 hours a week, go hiking twice a month, that sort of thing. They're heavily focused on small, consistent efforts over time, and they're intended to last the entire year.

Product goals require me to do/make a thing, or achieve a benchmark. They're things like "sew X new items for my wardrobe", "finish revising novel Y", "compete in/attend X event". Once that thing or benchmark has been reached, that goal is finished and I don't have to worry about it any more. While I still have to put in time and effort to get to the finish line, it can be much more focused than with a process goal - if I want, I can spend three straight days sewing a shirt, and then not think about my wardrobe goal for six months.

It's both very important and extremely tricky to get the balance of Process to Product right. Human brains LOVE habitual activity and consistency, but they can only deal with so much of it being piled into them at once. (This goes doubly if you're neurodivergent.) I've learned to tilt the balance pretty heavily towards Product when I'm writing my final list. 

I try to only have one new process-oriented goal to focus on, at most. Any more than that, and I'm less likely to hit what I was aiming for. (Many of my process goals carry over in some form from year to year. For instance, I always have a word count goal, and some form of fibre-related goal.)

An example: last year, three of my goals were writing related - establish a consistent writing routine, publish at least one blog post a month, and finish revising a novel. The first two were process goals, the last one product-focused. 

While I made good progress on all of them, and was happy to declare success based on the spirit of the exercise, I didn't hit any going by the letter of it. Sure, I published 14 blog posts last year - two more than the target! - but there were three months when I posted zero. And while I made my yearly word count target, my consistency was, uh, not great.

Break down the targets you're aiming for

Which brings me to my next tactic. When possible, have more than one way to measure a goal's success.

This is especially important for process goals, which by their nature are easier to 'fail' week to week. Having multiple success conditions gives you greater leeway for when Life Happens At You. Nothing is more demoralising than something happening early in the year, that throws you off your so-far perfect streak, with no way to fix it.

How does this work in practice? I take the weekly or monthly goal that I'm aiming for, multiply that number out to a year, and use that as my secondary aiming point. So "weave 2.5 hours per week" becomes both "weave for at least 130 hours over the year" and "weave 10 hours and 50 minutes every month". If (when) I don't hit 2.5 hours one week, it isn't as big a deal - I can look at how many minutes I was short, and roll that into the weeks left in the current month.

This approach saved my bacon several times last year. I had a couple of big, multi-day conferences and camps that sucked a lot of time and brainpower out of my usual schedule. If I'd just been measuring weekly adherence, I would have "failed" in April and May when I simply didn't have the energy to do that much weaving on top of all the conference prep. But because I was measuring monthly as well as yearly, I simply rolled the two weeks I took off into the weeks before and after the events, and still hit my monthly weaving target.

It can help to think about what the actual point of the goal you're making is, too. The point behind "publish a blog post a month" is partly to have a consistent output, but it's also to write more words. So as well as the one-a-month goal, I set a year target of 12 posts, total. Did I post to the blog every single month? Nope. Did I post twelve or more times in the year? Yep! Was that more than I would have posted without having a goal to aim for? Absolutely!

Re-assess Regularly

Last, but definitely not least, update your approach as the year progresses. Whatever I pick as my 'yearly goals' right now don't have to be the things I work on all year. Life gets in the way, my needs change, I have more or less (usually less) time and energy available than I thought I would.

So I give my "final" goal list (and attached success metrics) a going-over in March to see how it's shaping up. Depending on the year, I'll give it another interrogation in June or July, and adjust or drop goals as needed. Remember, your goals serve YOU, not the other way around.

Last year I started January with nine goals - I had three life areas, and three goals in each area. It turns out that's too many for me to focus on over a year. In March, I dropped one of those goals, and by May, I'd dropped a second. (Both of the dropped items were process goals - things I wanted to do every day or week. They were also, not coincidentally, things I'd added out of a sense of obligation more than actual excitement.)

The Final List

No talk of goal setting would be complete if I didn't share my final list. (I'm also doing the Habitica's New Year's Resolutions set of Challenges again this year, and the first one involves sharing your goals on social media.) 

1. Buy a house
2. Publish at least one blog post a month/12 blog posts in the year
3. Maintain daily streak on 4TheWords/write 75k new fiction and 15k non-fiction
4. Maintain a 5:1 spinning:weaving ratio (ie spend 5 hours spinning for every 1 hour of weaving)
5. Get - and then keep - the WIP pile below 10
6. Make at least three new items for my wardrobe (socks don't count)
7. Attend HEMA training at least four times a month during terms
8. Take the younger kid (and thus me) roller skating at least 6 times

If we're lucky (or unlucky if you dislike this sort of talk) I'll do a check-in around mid-year to see how I've been doing. If we're less lucky, I'll do a year-end wrap-up thingummy to close out the year.

Either way, hopefully this extremely long and somewhat rambling break-down of my goal-setting is useful to y'all.