Every December follows the same pattern: most people begin planning a new (better) life for the coming year. Yet quite often — either during the planning process itself or a few months into that supposedly better life — they are met with unpleasant feelings: anxiety, disappointment, confusion.

We often set goals that are not truly our own, but borrowed social templates: "increase my income," "build a career," "get married."

Society seems to sort us onto shelves with labels: "successful," "failure," "average." Social media only amplifies this pressure by showing polished, idealized annual reports of other people’s lives.

But let’s pause and reflect.

A surgeon who saves a life doesn’t post a photo report saying, "Goal is achieved — the patient is survived." The meaning lies in the action itself, in the value of saving a life. The same applies to a teacher who has poured their soul into their students. Their "report" is an internal, deeply felt knowledge of their purpose.

If there is no answer, that’s a signal. Perhaps you are building not your own home, but a façade based on someone else’s design. It’s much easier to take a ready-made template, but the foundation won’t be yours — and living in such a house will feel uncomfortable.

Anxiety during planning arises when we plunge headlong into an imagined ideal future. We draw pictures: "Here I got a promotion," "Here I earn more money," "Here I bought a car." But these fantasies begin to consume our present.

The future is an unreliable foundation for meaning. When we live by the mindset "first I’ll achieve, and then I’ll start living," we fall into emptiness. We stop living today because we are already living "later."

And if we are not in the present, then where is meaning?

I suggest a few exercises that can help you return to the "here and now":

Tension is born from the gap between the dream and reality. A dream is like elusive beauty: you can approach it, but you can never fully possess it.

When setting goals, listen closely to how they sound.

Often they sound like this: "I must lose weight," "I must earn more," "I must be a good parent."

This is the language of obligation, coercion, and conformity. Behind it often hides a desire to please, to prove something to the world, or to compensate for insecurity.

Try a different language — the language of choice.

Replace "I must" with "I choose."

For example: "I choose to take care of my health because I want to feel energetic.", "I choose to develop this skill because it genuinely interests me."

Your inner compass can be guilt and anxiety.

If thinking about a goal makes you feel guilty ("I'm falling behind again") or anxious ("I won’t manage"), pause. This is a warning sign that you may be moving in the wrong direction. Your compass is off and needs a "repair."

If planning in the usual format exhausts you, set aside the checklist and try a different approach.

Ask yourself the key question: "How do I want to feel next year?" Not "what to have" or "what to achieve," but precisely "how to feel":

Once a month, ask yourself four simple questions:

Write not dry statements of achievement, but affirmations that begin with "I choose…":

In closing, I want to say that planning a year ahead truly takes courage. But it is within our power to turn this planning not into coercion, but into a careful, attentive, and honest conversation with the most important person in your life — with yourself.