What are your goals in life? What kind of a shape to you imagine your life will have, when you have lived it in its entirety? How have these goals changed over the years? Do you see yourself and your life’s purpose differently now than you used to?

The idea of living up to one’s potential is one I find deeply interesting. I have had to spend a lot of time winnowing out what I value, what I consider my path in life, what I want my goals to be. I grew up believing one set of things about what I should value in myself. School, and society at large, suggest that productivity of one kind or another is the one true (laudable, morally upright, comfortably capitalist) path. This narrative suggests we measure our worth in Things Accomplished. So as you might imagine, when faced with chronic health problems that very often prevent me from accomplishing my Things, particularly things of recognized economic value, I was in for a crisis of self-worth. Life wasn’t what my academic education (or especially the competitive Smith environment) had prepared me for.

But I refused to accept that I was worthless and useless. I realized that I had to reject my old goals, instead, and define achievement for myself. Build my own purpose in life–one that was within my reach, instead of forever beyond it. (And even now I sometimes struggle with the old story, and have to remind myself not to compare myself–to other parents, fellow Smith alums, you name it.)

My current goals, as best as I can describe them, are these:

I want to cultivate within myself playful curiosity, engagement, openness, self-compassion, body positivity, courage, and gratitude.

I want to draw connections with other people and with nature, while maintaining a strong and centered self and using my energy wisely.

I want to experience life in every vibrant detail.

I want to spread harmony, order, beauty, pleasure, and engagement with the senses to others (and to my surroundings, in the case of beauty and order).

I want to model integrity by showing up for all of my responsibilities: to myself, to my family, to my friends, and to my community.

I want to maintain and enhance my physical, mental, and emotional health–even when that means gently honoring my limitations.

There are many paths towards these goals built into my daily life. I am working towards them when I give my body the rest it needs. When I am parenting. When I clean my countertops or cook for my loved ones or take an extra moment to be friendly to a stranger. And so much more. Little things. Beautiful things. Things that have value to the people around me, and to me, but rarely the kind of value measured in money.

The sense that I know what I aim to do with my time on this planet, and that at least some of the things I do every day are in service of those goals is a source of deep satisfaction to me. It is from this certainty, this clarity, that I write and organize things and watch the bees. Have important arguments with my daughter, and tell her stories. Plant flowers and pull weeds and read books aloud. Brew tea and go for walks and take photographs and cultivate love. Make Living Vividly guild challenges, and host poly tea discussion groups. Clean my house and do my exercises and sleep eight hours a night. Show up for all of my beloveds. It is because I know why, and because I choose to do them, that these tasks become my homely magics: evocations of the way I want to be in the world; slow but steady steps towards crafting the shape I want my life to make.

Without the annealing fire of chronic illness, I might never have discovered these truths about myself. I might never have had to question my goals right down to their very bedrock, and build them all anew. And though I imagine that many of the ways I live my life would take familiar shapes, I might never have learned to believe in myself and my life’s purpose so passionately. This moment is the one I have to do my living in. Every choice matters.

How do you choose to spend your precious, irretrievable time? What shape is your life making? Is it what you had always expected, or do you surprise yourself?