I have a tradition. Every January, I take a few days to get away from everything and press reset. Usually, I’ll toss my fly rod and a few good books into the car, then drive into the mountains until I feel like stopping. It’s my way of recalibrating.
A few years ago on one of these trips, I read the story of a man named John Goddard. Goddard was a highly regarded explorer whose life was captured by the motto “to dare is to do, to fear is to fail.” Goddard’s life of adventure began when he was just 15 years old. Decades ago, the explorer sat down and gave a written form to his teenage dreams by compiling a list of 127 goals for the rest of his life.
Given his youthful explorers bent, it isn’t surprising that the vast majority of those goals had to do with exploring and experiencing different places all around the globe. Here’s a snapshot.
Climbing the Matterhorn and Mount Fuji and exploring the Amazon basin and the Nile River. Visiting the Great Wall of China, the Taj Mahal, the Eiffel Tower, and the Pyramids. Retracing the travels of Marco Polo and Alexander the Great across Asia. Photographing Niagara Falls, studying primitive cultures in the Congo and Alaska and Brazil and following the River Jordan from the Sea of Galilee to the Dead Sea. Swimming in Lake Superior, exploring the depths of the Red Sea, and traveling down the Grand Canyon by foot and by boat. There were scores of entries like these.
Also on his list were dozens of encounters in more obscure locations. Exploring the Rio Coco in Nicaragua, climbing Ayers Rock in Australia and Mount Huascaran in Peru, and visiting the Sacred Well of Chichen-Itza in Mexico. Even observing dragon lizards on Komodo Island, watching a cremation ceremony in Bali and the list goes on…
Lots of other items Goddard listed had to do with acquiring knowledge and skills. He dreamed of learning to play the flute and violin and piano. Learning jujitsu and polo and fencing, flying a plane, building a telescope, writing a book, composing music, running a five-minute mile, and lighting a match with a .22 rifle. He wanted to learn Spanish and French and Arabic, to read all of the Bible plus significant works of eighteen of the most famous literary works. He wrote down that he wanted to become familiar with music by fifteen of the world’s most famous composers and he wanted to teach a college course.
Also on the list were plenty of fun experiences like riding a horse in the Rose parade, diving in a submarine, flying in a balloon, shipping aboard a freighter as a seaman, and visiting a movie studio.
Next to last on his list — goal number 126 — was “Marry and have children” (understandably low in priority, I suppose, for a boy of fifteen). And last but not least, number 127 was “Live to see the twenty-first century. Honestly, reading Goddard’s list, you’d think no one could ever accomplish this even in ten lifetimes. You can read the entire list here.
Here’s what’s amazing: By the time Goddard was in his seventies, he had accomplished well over 109 of those 127 goals, including every single one that I’ve mentioned above.
As I sat on the bed in that cabin, with my dog Indiana snoozing at my feet, and read over Goddard’s list, I thought about my own life and asked myself, “Why not?” After all, I’d always believed that so many of us fail to experience a full, abundant life because we’re convinced that it’s out of reach.
I pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and started writing. And then, something happened I never expected.
I kept writing. And writing. One hundred and fifteen goals later, I stopped. At nearly 1:00 A.M., I put down my pen and read through the words on the page, and I couldn’t help but smile. I’d written things I’d never told anyone else.
That night, as I lay there in the cabins darkness, I wondered what it would be like to actually accomplish all the things I’d written down. I wondered if even having a list like this was a good idea. After all, there were probably more noble pursuits. You know, things like world hunger and poverty and injustice.
An ancient philosopher once said, “The noble man devises noble plans; and by noble plans, he stands.” That must mean there’s such a thing as plans that aren’t noble. What’s the difference? The difference is our motivation. Motivation is the thing that separates those who simply live life to satisfy their own ambition and ego and those who live a life that honors others and the incredible gift that life is.
In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo’s quest to destroy the Ring of Power wasn’t driven by selfish ambition. His goal was to rescue Middle Earth from a danger which very few people fully understand. The plan for accomplishing this goal, though fairly simple, was incredibly daring and required the utmost from Frodo in patience, endurance, and sacrifice. By doing the right thing, the unselfish thing, at this most crucial moment in Middle Earth’s history, Frodo achieved incomparable fulfillment and lasting legacy.
Thats the success paradox. Accomplishing truly great things is far from selfish, even though it brings us the greatest personal benefits imaginable. The distinguished Chicago architect and city planner David Burnham once wrote, “Make no little plans. They have no magic to stir men’s blood and probably themselves will not be realized.”
Since that night, I’ve gone back to my list and refined and rewritten it. And I’ve begun checking·off different goals as I accomplish them. In the past ten years, nearly half of them have been achieved. Things I never dreamed I’d be able to do. And along the way, as I’ve amassed a little life experience, I’d make crucial adjustments to the list.
If John Goddard can accomplish so much during his lifetime, what can you do? What are the goals and plans that lie deep inside you? What are the secret ambitions planted deep in your heart that is waiting to come alive? You may not come up with 127 items, but that’s fine. Maybe its just a handful of targets, but you’re absolutely convinced they are part of your destiny.
Or you might find yourself saying, “I could never accomplish everything I have in my heat to do. I’m not qualified enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not strong enough.” Imagine if Frodo had said that and given up his quest! The humble, unsuspecting heroes are the best ones. They are the ones that can really turn the world upside down.