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I previously described how the weekly review is an operating system, funneling each bit of information you captured during the week to its p
I previously described how the weekly review is an operating system, funneling each bit of information you captured during the week to its proper place. I also described the monthly review as a systems check, periodically making sure your systems are in good working order.
Now we’re ready to dive into the annual review, which I think of as a “life rearchitecture.” Like all high-level strategic planning, you’re not actually doing anything. You are taking the 50,000 foot view, and making conscious adjustments to the narrative by which you live your life.
You can read more about this exercise in What I Learned in 7 Years of Tracking Gratitude. Here’s a sample of this year’s list for you to get a sense of how straightforward it is:
I like the questionnaire format, because it removes the expectation that what I write must be profound or noble. I ask myself the following questions about the past year, and then answer them as honestly as possible.
The previous steps set the stage for reviewing and updating my goals.
The Gratitude List puts me in a positive, abundance-oriented mindset, seeing clearly how much is possible in just a year. And answering the questions above explores the nooks and crannies of my desires, hopes, and intentions, many of which I’ve been reluctant to articulate.
Because I’ve already updated my goals as step 1 in my monthly review, I focus now on creating new ones. Here’s what I came up with for 2018, only 5 of which already existed in some form:
My main criteria for formulating these goals, besides the S.M.A.R.T. guidelines explained in the monthly review, is that they have to scare me. They have to be goals I don’t know I can reach using existing skills and resources. That high bar right from the beginning provides the background pressure to look for new sources of leverage all year long.
Then I create any new projects that are needed to start taking action on the goals above, for example:
This isn’t quite as simple as generating one project for each goal. Some goals can be reached directly with a single project, whereas more ambitious ones may require a group of projects, in parallel or one after the other. Other projects are not directly tied to specific goals, but play more of a supporting role (like meal planning, payroll setup, and learning to draw).
This year, for the first time, I made an extremely simple calendar to give myself an idea of when my various goals need to be started and finished. Anyone with any experience in formal planning will be scandalized, but this is meant to be a quick and dirty overview, not a detailed plan.
The white numbers correspond to the goals above:
For years I struggled to find a way to “review” my Areas of Responsibility (long-term, ongoing responsibilities like Health, Finances, Travel, Apartment, or Spouse).
Areas tend to change on long timescales of months or years, which means there never seems to be a “right time” to evaluate them. Checklists and other analytical approaches don’t work, because these areas of our lives tend to be integrated and holistic, not black or white.
I came up with the Personal Narrative Vision (PNV) exercise to approach it from a different angle. I realized that the natural way to think about the balance of activities in one’s life is through stories. The PNV is a detailed account of what the different areas of my life will look like a year from now.
I start by reading the previous year’s and noting anything that was off base, unrealistic, or too ambitious. Then I write a new story for the coming year, in the present tense:
This isn’t a brief story. This year’s came out to 2,100 words, or about 4 pages. My goal is to describe every aspect of this future life in as much juicy detail as I can muster.
My goal is not to try and predict exactly what my life will look like a year from now. I really have no idea. I do it to recruit the emotions and unconscious processes of my limbic system as allies in creating the conditions I want to grow and thrive.
It’s similar to visualization — once the mind can imagine something, it starts to see ways of making it real. When I can practically taste the food I want to be eating and can vividly imagine the sunlight streaming through my future windows, it all feels very tangible and possible. I start to notice all sorts of opportunities to subtly (and sometimes dramatically) alter the direction I’m headed.
It’s important to hold this narrative lightly, even as you give yourself permission to fill in all the details. Life always proves far more interesting (and occasionally more ambitious) than our imagination, and being open to serendipity is just as important as any goal.
The final product of all these questions and checklists is not, surprisingly, goals or projects or visualizations. It is my Daily Routines list, a concise summary of the habits, routines, and rituals I’ll need this year to make everything else possible.
I start by reviewing the previous year’s list, noting anything that was unrealistic or irrelevant. Then I make a chronological checklist of the daily and weekly habits I am committed to for the coming year, broken down into 5 sections:
I can then put these on the calendar, write them on a stickie note by my computer, set alarms on my phone, or put other structures in place to make good habits more likely to happen and bad habits less likely.
In spite of all the hype around New Year’s Resolutions and the cliched slogans (“new year, new you”), I always find there is indeed something meaningful about the end of the year.
It’s like a jubilee, your failings and mistakes cleared away to make room for a new chapter. There’s no magical transformation in your habits and mindset, but there is a small burst of motivation. You can try and use that temporary energy to spark momentum. But in my experience that game is bound to fail for most people.
I prefer to spend that motivation on an Annual Review. To shape my own perspective toward what I want, rather than what I have. To view my life through the lens of what is possible, instead of what is known. I force myself to be so practical all year long — this is my chance to dream a little. I always find that a little bit of this perspective can have a profound effect on my perception of my circumstances. And perception is the precursor to any kind of action.
As a final step — optional but highly recommended — I suggest sharing the results of these exercises with the people who are important to you. Share them with your partner, your family, your friends, and your colleagues. Make it a discussion. Answer the questions together.
Making your goals and intentions known to the people you spend your life with also makes them more real. We are fundamentally social creatures. Sharing these deep-seated desires alters how people see us and listen to us. It doesn’t replace the need for action, but can often recruit them into helping or supporting you.
Taking the time to perform an annual review is the most effective way I know of to edit your own narrative and be the author of your own life. Don’t miss the opportunity.
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