I have written New Year’s resolutions every Dec. 31 for literally decades. Not affirmations or vibes, but actual written goals that take thoughtful, serious planning. And I usually achieve many of them.
That success is part of how I got into trouble.
Each year, I refined the process and revised the goals. I learned more about how I worked, where I stalled, what mattered most, and what I had neglected the year before. I added categories, clarification, and precision. It became a complex tree, and it addressed everything. What began as a tool slowly became a system. Then the system became a creature with needs of its own.
At some point, it became a Monster.
This year, my resolutions run three full pages, carefully organized into categories followed by bulleted lists: education, health, writing, professional life, finances, home, social life, spiritual formation, psychology, plus a rigorous daily schedule meant to hold the whole structure upright. None of it is frivolous.
A few examples, just to give you the flavor:
- Become fluent in Spanish (getting there);
- Finish multiple books and rework older manuscripts into publishable form (let's not discuss this one);
- Go to the gym three to four times per week and address ongoing medical issues (success);
- Launch a new publishing platform while increasing output (cautious success);
- Read the entire Bible and complete my conversion to Catholicism (getting there).
These are not pipe dreams. They are reasonable, adult goals, the kind responsible people set because they actually intend to follow through. Individually, most of them make sense. Collectively, they are overwhelming.
The Problem Wasn’t Ambition — It Was Simultaneity
What I was really trying to do was not “too much.” Okay, it kinda was. I was trying to do everything that matters, all at once, inside a single calendar year: Growth goals stacked on top of maintenance goals, stacked on top of obligations that do not pause just because it’s January.
It is possible I am overambitious.
The suckiest thing, though, is that even when I succeeded, the list itself guaranteed a lingering sense of failure. There was no real finish line. Completion was theoretical. The Monster was always starving, never satiated.
Eventually, I had to admit that while I am very good at setting goals, I am not particularly good at setting workable ones — goals that a human life can realistically execute, complete, and feel rewarded by over the course of a year.
So this year, of course, I added a new goal.
I want to make better goals.
I did some research, and I think I have a good system.
Step One: Select the Right Goals First
Most people think resolutions fail because of poor follow-through. They usually fail earlier, right at selection. We choose goals emotionally and aspirationally because they sound impressive or feel virtuous. Because they represent the person we wish we were on Jan. 1.
That’s how you end up trying to fix everything at once. So I started with the Monster from last year, deleted things I'd achieved (and there were a few) and added new things I wanted to accomplish.
That long master list is not a to-do list. It’s a backlog, a catalog of everything that matters to you across a lifetime. You don’t ask, “What do I feel motivated to do this year?” You ask: “What deserves a slot this year?”
Then I ran each item through a list of questions.
Does This Goal Actually Change Anything?
Ask one hard question: If I completed this perfectly, would my life clearly be different in the way I say I want?
For example:
- Finish a specific novel → yes.
- “Work more on my writing” → vague, probably not.
If the payoff isn’t clear, the goal goes back into the backlog. Or if it's much too vague, like "work more on my writing," it gets either clarified or deleted. Specificity is your friend here.
Is This a Bottleneck or an Accessory?
Some goals unlock many others. Writing consistently, for instance, unlocks finished books, publishing opportunities, and professional momentum. Learning a second language while still mastering the first, on the other hand, may be interesting, but it doesn’t unlock much right now.
Choose bottlenecks first. Accessories can wait.
Is This the Right Time?
A goal can be worthy and still mistimed. Launching a major platform during an already overloaded year may be a bad bet. Focusing on one book during that same year might be exactly right.
Postponement is not abandonment. It’s sequencing. And the goal will be there on the monster list, waiting, next year.
Is This Goal Finite?
Finite goals make excellent yearly goals because they end.
- Finish a novel.
- Convert to Catholicism.
- Launch a defined project.
Ongoing goals, like health, general writing, or spiritual practices, usually belong in maintenance, not the limited active slots. A good year includes at least one goal you can genuinely finish and retire.
Can I Describe the First 30 Days?
If you can’t answer “What would I actually do in January?,” the goal isn’t ready. “Finish the book” becomes viable only when it turns into:
- Write 750 words per weekday;
- Revise once a week.
If the first month can’t be spelled out, the goal goes back to the backlog.
After this step, your yearly list should feel almost too small. That’s the point.
Step Two: Turn Outcomes Into Processes
Once you’ve chosen the right goals, you need to ensure you are listing processes, not outcomes.
Outcomes feel motivating; they are the things you want to have achieved. They are also useless for daily action.
- “Finish the book.”
- “Get fluent.”
- “Get in shape.”
These tell you nothing about what to do tomorrow. Processes do.
- Become fluent in Spanish becomes: 20 minutes of study daily and one weekly conversation session.
- Finish the book becomes: Write 750 words per weekday before noon, and one weekly revision session.
- Get in shape becomes: Gym on preset days with a defined home fallback.
Outcome goals still matter. They provide direction. But processes are what you execute. If a goal cannot be expressed as repeatable actions, it isn’t finished yet.
Step Three: Ensure Daily Wins
One reason outcome-based goals fail is that they starve the brain of reward. If the only win is “finish the book,” you may go months without any sense of success, even while doing everything right. Good goals create frequent, unambiguous wins.
- Writing: the win is completing the session, not liking the prose.
- Language study: the win is showing up every day, not sounding fluent.
- Fitness: the win is doing the planned movement, not the scale.
- Spiritual practice: the win is completing the reading or attending Mass.
Daily wins produce dopamine, and dopamine sustains effort. Sustained effort produces outcomes. It’s simple biology.
Step Four: Measure Execution, Not Just Results
Outcomes are lagging indicators. Processes are leading indicators. Track outcomes for direction — but grade yourself on execution:
- How many writing sessions did I complete?
- How often did I follow the plan?
- Did I use my fallback when needed?
Then apply the 80% rule: If you are executing a process goal 80% of the time, it is working. So while you're developing your list, make sure that you have a way to measure whether you are succeeding, and keep in mind that you are not trying for perfection. If you don't think you can meet the goal 80% of the time, you need to revise it until you can.
Missing once isn’t failure. Missing repeatedly means the goal needs redesign, not shame. Never shame!
Step Five: Review and Replace (Don’t Just Accumulate)
This is where the Monster finally gets tamed. The master list stays. It is your backlog. Each year, you select a small number of goals to activate.
When a finite goal is completed — converting to Catholicism, finishing a novel, launching a platform — it gets retired permanently. In its place, you pull the next most important goal forward from the backlog.
The list doesn’t grow endlessly. It cycles.
The Dec. 31 Review: The Missing Half of Resolutions
Before setting new goals, review the year you actually lived.
- Where was I at the beginning of the year?
- Where am I now?
- Which processes worked?
- Which didn’t — and why?
This isn’t a moral audit. It’s a learning loop. Over time:
- Goals get fewer.
- Estimates get more realistic.
- Guilt goes down.
- Progress becomes visible.
Remember, Goals Are Tools, Not Moral Tests
Goals are not proof of virtue or some sort of character judgment. You are not a virtuous Knight Templar swearing a vow; nor do you work under the ideal conditions necessary to perfectly execute every line item.
Goals are tools.
If a goal creates constant pressure without progress, it is misdesigned. If it multiplies endlessly, it needs limits. If it makes you feel perpetually behind, it is no longer doing its job.
This year, I’m not trying to do more. Instead, I'm trying to keep my list to a single page that I can take in at a glance each day, and know what I need to do and how I'm doing. I'm going to do fewer things, but I'm going to do them better, with clearer processes, realistic benchmarks, and goals that can actually be completed within a year, rather than endlessly chased.
I don’t need a whole new self this year. I need goals that know where they belong — and when they’re finished.
May all of you have a happy, prosperous, and more than anything, a successful new year!
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