When I was a teenager, I wrote lists - new notebooks, new pens, even lines. "Go for a run," "learn a language," "enter university." The sheets ended up as dust in drawers, and the goals - awkward memories.

It always seemed to me that setting a goal is like hanging a weight around your neck: if you don't drag it, you'll drown. Only now have I realized: a goal is not a weight. A goal is a fire that sometimes needs to be fanned with your breath.

I learned not to punish myself for disrupted plans. I stopped being afraid of wanting a lot. Sometimes you want something funny: for example, to pack a suitcase and go to the mountains, open your own small candle shop or write a book. Why say "no" to yourself?

My secret is not to divide dreams into "real" and "ridiculous". All my desires are equal. And do you know how to allow yourself to want more? And what are you most afraid of: failure or success?

Today my list is in front of me again. The handwriting is different. But there is still room for something that is a little scary. So everything is right.