This is my first book down for 2023 and I’m a little late getting started. That’s ok, though, since this is the book that is likely going to spur the rest of my reading goals for the year.
The author’s claim to fame is that he went on a quest to visit all of the countries of the world (at the time of the writing) before he turned 35.
But the book isn’t so much about that as it’s about the idea of setting personal goals – big goals. Goals so big as to call them personal quests.
As the kind of person who has searched for meaning in life for half a century, the premise was enough to get me started. The first couple of chapters didn’t do much for me and I was tempted a couple of times to put it back down. Mostly – and this is the biggest problem I have with the whole book – is that there is a sense of unacknowledged privilege that I get from the author.
Oh, he addresses the obvious questions – sort of – about little things like time and money and family and how, exactly, the people he talked to for the book managed to do the things they did.
But those key issues weren’t covered very well. He makes the case that anyone could go anywhere if only they saved a couple of dollars a day for a couple of years. I mean, I guess. But some folks might have a hard time scratching even that small amount together.
Additionally, let’s say the average American could come up with the $2500 or so he says will take you anywhere on Earth – and that’s a huge assumption to begin with – how many of us can give up the time it would take to make the trip?
Not everybody gets vacay, my dude.
Or, as in my case, not everybody dreams of far-off travel. Oh, he mentions a (very) few cases where the personal quests are done from home. There’s the lady who cooked a meal from a different country (alphabetically) every week. Or the blind lady who trained her own service dog.
Great stories, but they are far outnumbered by the compulsive marathon runners or the guys who walk across deserts with little more than a backpack and sunscreen.
But for all my bitching, the book has inspired me to set a few goals of my own. Granted, they’re mostly extensions of things I was doing anyway, but putting numbers to them and holding yourself accountable is provably a great way to get shit done.
For example:
I’ll be 53 this year. So I set myself the goal of reading 53 books before the ball drops in December. Not a huge goal, but it’s one of several.
Writing every single day. I’ve been doing this one for a couple of months anyway, but making it an Official Goal somehow makes me seem less anti-social and weird for doing it.
I’m going to teach myself a couple new skills. Some may be harder than others. Some likely won’t impress you much.
That’s fine. I’m not doing this for you.
I’m going to sing karaoke for the first time in my life. This one scares me. A lot. My old man was a professional singer. Ok, he was a nightclub singer. But he got paid to do it. I, so far as I can tell, inherited exactly none of his musical inclinations. But after the chaos of the office Christmas party a few weeks ago, I hardly think I could be much worse than Dave from the marketing department.
Sorry, Dave.
Keeping in the musical vein, I’m going to learn an instrument. Maybe two, since we’re dreaming big. I’ve played a little over the years but I’ve never gotten to the point that anyone would want to hear me. I’m not going to worry about that part anymore. I’m going to do it because I want to and that’s a good enough reason.
I won’t master it, of course, but if I can play a song or two recognizably, I’ll call that a win.
And I’m going to update this blog a little more regularly. Considering that my posts were rarely more frequent than annually, that shouldn’t be hard to improve on.
And you, you lucky readers, get to follow along. Or don’t.
I’m doing this for me and for no other reason. If I just bark into the void for a year, eh. I wasn’t doing anything else anyway.