Goals, Goalies, Getting One in the Net

This year, I set a couple of goals for myself (well, more than a couple actually). To start submitting short stories to contests and publications. To become more involved in the local writers' community. To learn to drive. Two out of three ain't bad. I am driving around now with a driving instructor, or my husband as a co-driver when I'm not taking a lesson. It's coming along very well, and my instructor says the road test should be no problem. So the driving goal may actually be achieved before my fifty-first birthday this year. I've submitted stories to the Writer's Digest Annual Competition. This is my second attempt at submitting work, and my short story "Lights Out" actually squeaked under the line and made it into the top one hundred for the Genre category. Very pleased with myself about this; at the rate I'm going, I might even make money in this racket by my eleventy-first birthday.

Now, about the getting-more-involved goal... maybe I just don't do "social." Shamefully, I continue to miss meetings of the local Writer's Circle, would like to get out to events but can't be bothered to arrange child care, and so on.... But I'm not quite giving up on that one yet.

In terms of setting and achieving goals, you may notice a theme of "late bloomer" in my life. Learning to drive and just beginning to submit stories at the age of fifty and so on. I'm also a middle-aged woman with a pre-teen child. Not that there wasn't the opportunity; babies and parenthood were early desires of mine, yet I remained childless throughout a lengthy common-law relationship. When that was over, and I found myself single in the big city, the goal of parenthood waited on the shelf until I reached about 37 or 38. Then, the baby hunger hit hard, and I ruthlessly strategized to get pregnant. But no matter how hard I played, I never scored. Finally, I gave up the game and took to enjoying warm summer evenings on the porch with a glass of red wine and Bridget Jones.

Just as I was about to turn forty, I found myself in a relationship with a guy my age who liked a lot of the same things. We had a lot of fun, you might say. I remember warning him one night (or was it morning?) that if we continued  to play without a goalie, we were bound to get one in the net eventually. He gave me his sly smile and said "Better keep working on my slapshot." And so, shortly after my forty-first birthday, and on the exact date of his forty-first birthday, our daughter was born.

When we set goals for ourselves, we plan all the steps leading up to their accomplishment. But I think the most important step is to look for the goalie blocking our way. Whoever, or whatever, that goalie is, you need to remove him from the game. Then, just take your best shot.