Fences are sometimes built to keep things in and sometimes they’re built to keep things out.
Around homes in cities where we’ve lived since joining staff with Cru, fences are mostly to keep things in. Like dogs and kids.
Fences like the one I’m currently building around the house at Base Camp are to keep things out, like cows and horses.
Fences also define boundaries. In this case, the boundary distinguishes the house from everything else. It sets it apart and gives it definition. Same with landscape edging.
Goals are much the same. They define direction but also boundaries.
Beyond my summer assignment for Destino, I have three goals that I’d like to accomplish before the fall semester starts in August:
- Invite 20 new ministry partners to join us in our mission
- Get the area right around the house done. In particular, I’d like to finish the walkways, fence, start grass, and build a deck outside the back door.
- Ensure boundary and pasture fencing is ready for cattle.
These goals give me direction and define my time and energy. I know what I’m working towards and planning for. A comfortable home conducive to resting and recovering is very important to me, as is having funding to pursue our mission. And providing families great grass-fed beef.
I am working hard to reach these goals because they move us more deeply into our future.
The problem is that goals are often incomplete.
Since the boundaries goals create define how we spend our limited time and energy, our options to do other things are diminished. That means that I can become so focused on my goals that I can become blinded to everything else around me, even to the point of barreling through what matters most.
In this case, what matters most is my relationship with Heather and our kids.
Confession… I recently got so focused (obsessed) on these goals that Heather was pretty much done with me.
I realized that there is a cost to reaching goals that I’m just not willing to pay. It’s like winning the battle but losing the war. Building Base Camp is a battle. A family with everyone flourishing, happy, and who enjoys being together is the war.
That’s when I stumbled on the idea of anti-goals from The Curiosity Chronicle, a weekly newsletter by Sahil Bloom that I have been enjoying reading.
Anti-goals are like fences to keep unwanted things out. They are things we DON’T want to happen.
- I don’t want a nice yard and deck if Heather won’t enjoy it with me.
- A functional kitchen and a big dining table isn’t important if my family doesn’t care about family dinner.
- A beef company doesn’t mean anything if my kids aren’t a big part of it.
Here is another way to think about goals and anti-goals:
If goals are rudders that set direction, anti-goals are the map that marks out the rapids and waterfalls.
This may all sound simple. Or maybe too complicated. We think about what we want or need, make some goals, knock them out and move on, right? Maybe so. And maybe I’m the only one who thinks about this stuff. But I don’t think so. I think that you, too, have hopes and dreams.
I’ve learned that life is full of opportunities. That risk is required. That everything starts with purpose. And that life doesn’t have to be easy to be good. Even really good.
Living the journey and embracing the moments with the people we call family is at the heart of who we are and helping others do the same is our mission.
We want to inspire people to pursue what matters most by discovering their own paths and pushing their own boundaries, whatever they may be.
And the more who join us on that kind of journey, the better.
I’m no expert in this stuff. I’m learning as I go. And maybe, seeing my process, the steps forward, as well as the steps back… maybe that will be helpful for you.
So let’s make the goals that move us deeper into our hopes and dreams. And let’s go after them hard. But not so hard that we risk winning the battle but lose the war.