Goals are a tool, not a measurement of my self-worth.
What is the actual function of a goal? Hint: it’s not to define you or determine your worth. That’s a common belief in an achievement-oriented culture, and I’m here to offer an alternative.
I view goals as one of many tools I employ to create the vision and embody the values that define my interpretation of success. I’m interested in creating an agility experience for myself and my dogs that is profoundly satisfying and filled with joy, and a goal cannot contain that. So I start with the deepest understanding of my why available to me and I set goals to serve THAT end.
This is critical because it helps me see:
It’s FAR better to trash a goal than to trash my relationship with my dog, my self, or my sport.
Stubbornly pursuing a goal that is undermining my joy in agility is one of the most costly mistakes I can make. Even when I have created the intended outcomes in this way, it doesn’t bring me joy. Embodying my values creates joy, not sacrificing them for an external “win.”
The connection we share with our dogs, the passion we have for the sport, the respect we give to ourselves and our own definition of success… all of these things are worth immeasurably more than doing a thing at any cost because we said we were going to do it.
To avoid this pitfall, I learned:
There are different types of goals and different goal-setting strategies to choose from.
After allowing some SMART goals to wreck my presence and patience as a horsewoman, I found a solution in process-oriented and non-specific goals. I learned to focus very carefully on what I could control. I set goals that felt safe and ethical because they didn’t actually require anything in particular from my animal partner — only from me.
This strategy created years of personal satisfaction and a much broader perspective on what goal-setting could look like. I stopped caring if my goals were “right” and cared how I felt about them instead.
And I might have stayed there forever, until I discovered:
The objective outcome of any goal is only a neutral circumstance until I decide what to think about it.
When I was operating under the assumption that failure to meet a goal reflected poorly on me, it became essential to set goals I could virtually guarantee would be successful. When I realized failure to meet a goal means nothing in particular until I assign meaning to it, a world of new possibilities became available to me.
This gave me the freedom to set ambitious, results-oriented goals again without fearing the impact on my relationship with myself or my dog. Now I know I’m winning, even when I fail. I’m able to appreciate how setting my sights on something “out of reach” is a powerful way to accelerate growth and self-awareness.
And I enjoy every moment of it more because I fully realize:
