The Goal of Achieving…Goals

by Jeff Brown

Real Estate Investments Broker

Author website

“But a deed cannot be both wise and unintended.” Greg Swann

Substitute goal for deed, and it’s still a profoundly affecting thought. In the context of Greg’s post, one could reasonably assume deed could be construed as goal.

The thrust of the post talks about the tactic of exposing your goals to the ‘public’, or at least a person(s) you know. The thinking is that you will tend to be more motivated by the fear of others knowing you not only failed, but failed by lack of commitment or best effort.

Clearly their are two schools of thought on this.

One is the unstated but obvious conclusion that using fear in a positive manner, as a motivator, will keep some folks on track to achieve the announced goal. Others go farther than a mere announcement — they set up fiercely painful penalties for failure. One such case was the woman who’d failed spectacularly time after time to lose weight which was life threatening.

Apparently she gathered her closest friends together to tell them the penalty for failure — running naked down the street in front of her neighbors. In other words, she established a penalty so severe, that would cause so much pain, her motivation to avoid the pain superseded her motivation to extend her life by losin’ the damn weight.

Though not my approach, whatever works, right?

As I commented in Greg’s post, I am in some ways, almost, but not quite against my will, my father’s son. I’m a pretty private guy, but he was extremely so. When he set goals his wife was fortunate to be in the know. Not kidding.

It was his preference, and now mine too, that if one doesn’t have a strong enough desire to bring about what the achievement of any particular goal brings, they shouldn’t set the goal in the first place. It’s not a value judgment on others. It’s like losing weight, gettin’ in shape, and eating a healthy, well rounded diet. There’s no one correct way.

I believe in keepin’ my personal and business goals to myself because I don’t set goals for which I don’t have a very strong desire to accomplish. It’s that simple. Again, I understand different M.O.s work for different folks. What works for one doesn’t necessarily work for the next guy.

Frankly, I’ve shared goals when I was younger. We all understand the whole accountability thing. But if I want something strongly enough to set a specific goal in writing, including the detailed strategy to get me there, I know when I’m not following the plan. Settin’ goals is a huge pain in the ass, at least from where I sit. It’s painstaking work. What began as, “I wanna make $X amount this year”, becomes real work when details of how it’s gonna be executed must be put down in real words, on real paper. For me, it begs the real question.

How badly do I want it?

I respect those who feel they benefit from having the world know what their goals are — and what they must do to make them reality. Again, whatever works. But those same folks don’t need a buddy callin’ periodically to make sure they drink enough water and consume enough calories to live another week. They’re motivated strongly enough to do that without goading. It’s a goal they reach every week. Furthermore, they don’t try to survive, they do it.

Yet they need to be goaded into making an extra six figures a year.

In my personal experience, I’ve achieved no ambitious goal for which I wasn’t massively motivated — from within. It’s a core belief with me. Before I set pen to paper, or put fingers to keyboard, I give intense thought and scrutiny to the strength of my desire. If I’m unwilling to do every single thing, big or small in it’s conquest, I don’t put it in writing. I like the way Greg said it even better.

“…the simple act of making an explicit, objective, undeniable commitment to your goals is the first step to achieving them. It’s doing that — or not doing it — that is the decisive factor.”

For me it comes down to a simple concept — words mean things.

Things we truly want to do, we do — we don’t try. As Greg puts it, we don’t play mind games when it matters to us greatly. Frankly, I’m a little more uncouth on that subject.

Failures and losers are always trying their best or, more cunningly deceptive, doing their best. I call BS. Whiny crap like that is why the vast majority of goals are stillborn. Do or don’t do — but stop sayin’ ‘try your best’ or worse, ‘do your best’, cuz you’re embarrassing yourself. Worst of all, those hearin’ that manure are embarrassed for you. I know, cuz I’ve been guilty more than once myself. Lookin’ back I still become a bit red-faced.

Not clear enough?

A core belief dictates I must believe I will accomplish any goal put into writing — before I start down the road to making it reality. It also dictates trying isn’t an option. I believe that’s a mind game played by those who need an excuse for failure. Again, I speak from a platform of sad experience.

It’s taken me from ‘that chubby blonde guy’ to a marathon runner. From the scrawny high school kid to competitive bodybuilder. From umpiring Little League games in shorts, to Division I college ball. From scrappin’ along in real estate to doing business in multiple states.

Even those with good intent will sometimes heap discouragement on your goals.

Dad had a 10 year business goal that was, to put it mildly, uncommonly ambitious. He barely had two quarters to rub together when he wrote it down. He told nobody. One day, while at the 19th hole, enjoying gin rummy and drinks with close friends, the topic of discussion turned to goals. Everyone spoke of their business goals except Dad. He finally relented, telling them of his 10 year plan. They were, according to Dad, stunned. As true friends they attempted to gently advise him of the virtual impossibility of achieving it in 15 years, much less 10.

He thanked them for their concern. It had been almost seven years since he’d written that goal down. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he’d exceeded it almost two years earlier — just half the time his plan allowed.

People mean well. Dad’s friends meant the best for him. Their advice reflected what they believed was possible. If he’d told them of his plan and objective in the beginning, they’d have given the same advice. They were his close buds — they meant the best for him.

That’s exactly why I don’t tell others about my own goals, with the exception of The Boss. And only then when I’m serious as a heart attack. My friends? There a a select few I use as critical sounding boards — those I trust implicitly. But I still don’t tell them the bottom line goals.

It’s my belief goals are more easily achieved by studiously avoiding telling others what they are. But that’s a personal belief, which obviously isn’t true for some. It’s a real paradox, isn’t it?

Greg eschews the psychology of the whole thing, but it interests me to the extent folks need others to goad them on to do the very things that will make their dreams morph into reality. “Hey, George, this is Mike, I’m making $35,000 a year now, but if I do A-Z for the next 12 months, I’ll make $150,000! Would you please keep me motivated to do those things, so I won’t be living paycheck to paycheck? Please?”

Yet if I”m to be consistent, what do I care how Mike attained his goal? A cat skin is a cat skin is a cat skin. Talk about mind games. I get into a circular argument with myself about why, if I’m super motivated to achieve a particular goal, I’d need outside prodding to do what it takes to make it happen. I get it that I don’t need to understand it. Heck, all I need to know is that for many it’s what works — and that’s enough.

A possible answer has occurred to me. As human nature so often demonstrates, we want what we want, but we don’t necessarily wanna do the grunt work required. I understand it intellectually, but not in my gut. The high school baseball star who gets a coupon for two free meals at Taco Bell and a bus ticket to East Toilet Seat Iowa to begin his quest for Major League status, puts up with horrid conditions for many years, with equally horrid pay. He knows his chance for success is very small, probably less than 2%.

Yet we, and that includes me at one time, need outside motivation to achieve a monetary goal we know in our hearts is attainable, assuming we actually, you know, do the work?

I know it works for some, but I’ll never understand it.