
Every December, I sit down to set goals for the year ahead. I have been doing some version of this since 2016, and, over time, the tracking part has stayed fairly consistent.
What has changed, and what I want to focus on here, is how I decide what the goals actually are in the first place.
Because that part is messier. And much more important.
I don’t start with outcomes
I don’t begin goal-setting by asking myself what I want to achieve by December 31.
I start with complaints.
I write down everything that felt frustrating, heavy, unfinished, or quietly discouraging over the past year. Messy spaces. Lingering problems. Areas where I felt behind, stuck, or stretched too thin. Things that kept resurfacing but never quite made it onto a to-do list.
None of this is elegant. It is usually a long, slightly grumpy list.
Then I look for themes.
What keeps coming up?
What feels sticky rather than fleeting?
What problems did not resolve themselves with time or effort alone?
Those patterns are almost always more honest than the goals I think I should be setting.
From friction to focus
Once the themes start to emerge, I ask a different set of questions.
- Is this something I can actually influence this year?
- Can it be broken down into meaningful steps?
- Would progress here make other things feel easier?
If a goal only makes sense as “achieve X by December 31,” I pause.
I do not want goals that sit untouched for most of the year, stay red month after month, and then turn into a last-minute scramble in December. That kind of goal creates pressure, not momentum.
What I am looking for instead are goals with stepping stones. Goals that can be broken into quarterly or monthly actions, so progress is visible along the way.
If I cannot picture what working on it looks like in March or July, it probably is not ready to be a goal yet.
The categories help, but they do not decide
Once I have clarity on what matters, I organize my goals into the same categories I have used for years:
- Business
- Leadership
- Personal
- Wild card (something specific that needs a spotlight that year – usually personal, not biz-related)
The categories help me balance my focus. They do not generate the goals.
If everything lives in business, something is off. If the wild card disappears year after year, that is usually a sign that I am avoiding something.
How I keep myself honest throughout the year
I keep my goals in my notebook, in a shared Google doc, or (what I’m doing this year) on a giant easel-sized post-it note attached to the wall of my office.
Each month, progress is marked as:
- Green: doing all the things
- Yellow: kind of doing the things
- Red: no progress
By December 31, yellow is no longer an option. Every goal must be either green or red.
I learned this system from Julie Reinganum, chair of my former peer mentoring group at Vistage, where we did monthly progress reviews. Public accountability matters. No one wants to explain a goal that stayed red all year, especially when the group remembers why it mattered.
I have followed this process long enough to know one thing. I do not end every year with everything in the green. And that is fine.
What matters more is that I am rarely surprised by where I end up.
What this gives me instead
This approach does not guarantee perfect execution. What it does give me is fewer performative goals, more honest course correction, and a clearer sense of progress throughout the year. Most importantly, it helps me set goals that can survive real life, not just January optimism.
If you are setting goals right now, my encouragement is simple.
Start with what feels hard. The clarity comes later.
Danielle