
There’s a big difference between…
Writing a book and publishing a blog post.
Running a 5k and finishing a marathon.
Climbing Kilimanjaro and taking a day trip up Mt. Washington.
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Our world has become ever more crowded with ambitions of every sort, with social feeds detailing the enviable evidence of our friends’ (and their friends’) milestone feats – that it can sometimes have a defeating effect. “I’d have to train for months…to have a big idea…to quit my job…I’ll do it next year…I’d need a partner.â€
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In an evolutionary world, it only makes sense that people are doing more and bigger stuff all the time, right? The minute one person does anything – much less better, faster, or longer – 20 more succeed in breaking those barriers.
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But big accomplishments are few and far between. They’re promises worth keeping to ourselves, without question – but to overlook smaller dreams – or dismiss them as a distraction, unimportant or trivial –  is to miss accessible opportunities to make meaningful dreams come true.
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Indulge me on this one.
I recently set my sights on learning Michael Jackson’s Thriller dance in two weeks. This was not without sacrifice. Over the course of my 14-day mission, I set aside some important work, made less interesting dinners, commuted in rush hour traffic, and dropped one ball in the form of a missed meeting. But…it was a short-term goal that felt semi-realistic, and that meant I finally (kind of) felt like a legendary pop star who I must have watched on MTV 100-plus times as a kid. Looking at my life, which admittedly doesn’t have a lot of room for “moreâ€, this actually seemed do-able.
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And it was… So. Much. Fun.
The learning.
The practice.
The performance.
All of it.
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Grand finish lines are wonderful, but they aren’t the only goals worth having.
Of course you should write a book, renovate a house, get a degree, pitch the show, launch the podcast and sell the business. But you could also take the class, do the gig, submit the work or enter a smaller, local race.
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More frequent finish lines are everywhere.
They aren’t without effort, intention, and logistics. But they’re within reach.
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And what they might deliver is a reunion with the kid inside who still wants to feel giddy, nervous and beside herself with excitement. This kind of glee can’t be manufactured. But it can be cultivated.
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Look around.
Decide on your “yes†thing.
Punctuate the finish with a date, a registration, an unveiling, or by pressing send…
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And then…do it.
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Mama-say-mama-sa-mama-coosa!