Reframing Goal-Setting After Life Disruption

When long-term plans shatter due to uncontrollable events, it’s natural to feel adrift. Major life disruptions – such as the years you devoted to caregiving for a parent with Alzheimer’s – can make traditional goal-setting seem futile or even painful. Yet it is possible to rediscover a meaningful way to set goals amidst deep uncertainty. This guide will walk through understanding the emotional impact of disrupted goals, explore alternative approaches (from psychological to philosophical), and offer practical frameworks to rebuild hope, purpose, and a sense of agency in shaping your future.
Experiencing a major upheaval to your life plans often brings grief and disorientation. You may mourn not only what was lost, but the future you thought you would have. Psychologists note that trauma or chronic stress can rob us of our sense of power and control, undermining confidence in setting any goals at all . In the wake of caregiving or other all-consuming life events, it’s common to feel helpless or hopeless about influencing the future. This emotional weight needs to be acknowledged:
Emotional Validation: “Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. When there’s a big disappointment, we don’t know if that’s the end of the story. It may just be the beginning of a great adventure… we just don’t know.” – Pema Chödrön . In other words, even when life feels ruined, this is not the end of your story. The future remains unwritten, and uncertainty also means new possibilities.
If you previously followed a highly structured system – for example, mapping out a 5-year plan in categories (health, family, community, finances, spirituality, etc.) and breaking it down into yearly and weekly targets – it’s understandable that you’ve lost faith in that method. Traditional goal-setting models like SMART goals or rigid long-term plans have strengths, but they often fall short in chaotic, unpredictable times. Here’s why conventional goal strategies can feel unhelpful or even harmful after major disruptions:
Bottom line: It’s not that you “failed” at goal-setting – it’s that the old goal paradigm failed to support you through life’s chaos. That approach was likely too inflexible and outcome-focused for a world where health, family, and external events can upend any schedule. Recognizing the limitations of traditional goal-setting is the first step toward a new approach that can accommodate life’s unpredictability.
(See the comparison table at the end of this guide for a side-by-side look at traditional vs. alternative goal models.)
How do you begin to even want to set goals again after losing faith? The key is to gently rebuild your sense of agency – your belief that you can influence your life’s direction – while also cultivating a realistic, flexible kind of hope. This involves psychological healing and sometimes a philosophical shift in how you view control and meaning.
One of the most empowering realizations is that you still have control over some things, even when much is uncontrollable. Psychologists differentiate between the “Circle of Concern” (things we care about but can’t control) and the “Circle of Influence” (things we can affect) . Focusing on the latter is crucial. Research in positive psychology underscores that when we focus on areas where our actions make a difference, it enhances our sense of empowerment and reduces stress . This echoes ancient Stoic philosophy: we should invest energy in what we can control (our actions, responses, values) and let go of obsessive worry over what we can’t .
Another important aspect is learning that it’s healthy to let go of unattainable goals and form new ones. Psychologists call this goal adjustment: the ability to disengage from goals that are no longer viable and reengage in new, meaningful goals. Far from being a quitters’ mentality, this flexibility is linked to better mental and physical health . In other words, it’s not a weakness to release a five-year plan that became impossible; it’s an adaptive strength. By grieving and then releasing an old goal, you free up energy to invest in a fresh goal that fits your life now. Research suggests that people who can do this – let go and find a new purpose – experience less distress and more positive well-being .
To rebuild hope, you might also tap into principles of post-traumatic growth – the phenomenon where some people, after trauma, find new strength, deeper relationships, or changed priorities that give life more meaning. This isn’t about sugarcoating pain; it’s about recognizing that you have grown or learned something from surviving your challenges. Perhaps you’ve developed incredible patience, empathy, or resourcefulness. These strengths can become the foundation for hopeful goal-setting (e.g. “I want to apply my newfound passion for advocacy by volunteering” – a goal born from adversity).
Additionally, consider the psychology of hope itself. Hope is not a passive wish; psychologist C.R. Snyder’s Hope Theory defines it as a combination of agency (willpower) and pathways (finding routes toward goals). To cultivate hope, practice setting a tiny goal and brainstorming multiple ways to reach it. For example, a tiny goal might be “reconnect with my sense of joy for one hour this week.” Pathways could include visiting a park, calling a fun friend, or doing an old hobby. By generating alternative paths, you reinforce the idea that there is always a way forward, even if Plan A fails . This flexible planning builds confidence that you can handle whatever comes.
Deep uncertainty often forces us to confront big philosophical questions: What is the purpose of my goals? What makes life meaningful if I can’t predict or control it? Engaging with these questions can profoundly shift your approach to the future.
One powerful insight comes from Viktor Frankl, a psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor who observed that finding meaning was crucial to survival in the most extreme unpredictability. In the concentration camp, Frankl coped by envisioning future goals – a reason to live beyond the barbed wire. He later wrote that focusing on a future purpose, however small, gave him a “why” to bear any “how.” For instance, he imagined himself after the war, lecturing about the psychology of the camps, and that vision “served as his coping and survival mechanism” . He also helped fellow prisoners identify personal goals – like seeing a loved one again – as a way to rekindle hope . Frankl’s lesson for us is that having a meaningful aim (not a rigid plan, but something or someone that matters to you) can sustain you through chaos. As he famously echoed Nietzsche: “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”
Another perspective comes from Stoic and Buddhist philosophies, which both teach a form of acceptance of uncertainty. The Stoics remind us that the only guarantees in life are our own attitudes and efforts; everything else is essentially on loan. Modern Stoic writers like Ryan Holiday note that fixating on external results (which we don’t fully control) wastes energy better spent on our own actions . Instead of “I will achieve XYZ outcome,” a Stoic might set a goal like “I will give my best effort to XYZ, and accept whatever outcome.” This can be liberating – it replaces attachment to results with commitment to process.
Buddhism likewise emphasizes embracing impermanence. Pema Chödrön, a Buddhist teacher, advises that “when things fall apart,” we can either shut down or “relax and embrace the open-endedness of the human situation” . She suggests that our suffering deepens when we resist uncertainty, whereas finding a way to be “comfortable with uncertainty” frees us from that constant anxiety . This doesn’t mean you like what happened or stop caring about the future – it means making peace with the fact that nothing is guaranteed. Ironically, accepting this can make you more courageous in setting goals, because you no longer see unexpected change as the enemy. As Chödrön says, “When there’s a big disappointment, we don’t know if that’s the end of the story… it may be the beginning of a great adventure.”
Reclaiming Personal Meaning: You mentioned spirituality as one of your life domains. Times of upheaval are often when people rediscover or redefine their purpose. This might be a spiritual or philosophical purpose (e.g. “to live with compassion” or “to learn and love as much as I can”), which can underpin new goals. It might help to reflect on questions like: What, at my core, do I value most now? What kind of person do I want to be through this storm? Rather than focusing on what you want to do in five years, consider who you want to be. This shift from achievement to character can anchor you. For example, you might decide your purpose is to be a caring presence for others, to express creativity, or to advocate for those in need. These kinds of purposes remain achievable in many forms, regardless of specific circumstances.
Finally, look to stories of others who have walked this road. Sheryl Sandberg’s experience after losing her husband led to her book “Option B.” The idea is that we all plan for Option A (the life we hoped for), but sometimes Option A is no longer available. Option B is about making the most of the life you have now, even if it’s not the life you planned . Sandberg learned to fight the belief that her tragedy was permanent and pervasive; with support, she found new sources of joy and set new goals as a single mother and advocate. Her resilience came from accepting her new reality while still believing in future happiness. Such stories can remind you that while your path has changed, it can still lead to profoundly meaningful places.
Embracing a new direction: A compass on an old map symbolizes how values and purpose can guide us forward, even when our original map no longer applies. In uncertainty, focus on your “inner compass” (core values) rather than a fixed route.
Traditional goal-setting isn’t the only way. In fact, when life is unpredictable, we need goal-setting methods that are flexible, compassionate, and aligned with our values. Below are several alternative frameworks and ideas for setting goals when the future is murky. These approaches can be mixed and matched – use whatever resonates with you.
Rather than starting with “Where do I want to be in 5 years?”, start with “What do I value, and how do I want to live, no matter what happens?” This is the essence of values-based planning, an approach used in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) and other counseling methods. Values are the core principles or qualities that matter to you (kindness, creativity, family, integrity, health, spirituality, etc.), and they serve as a guiding compass. In contrast to a concrete goal, a value is more like a direction you want to keep moving in over time .
For example, you might identify “caring for family” or “lifelong learning” or “authentic spirituality” as core values. These provide direction. In ACT’s metaphor, “values are a direction, whereas goals are the stops you make on the way while heading in that direction.” If heading west is your value, New York or Denver might be goal stops along the way – but if one stop becomes unreachable, you can take a detour or choose another stop, and still be going west (living your value).
Concretely, try this exercise: list the major domains of life that matter to you (common ones include family, friendships, health, personal growth, career, community, spirituality, leisure). For each, ask “How do I want to be in this area? What values do I want to embody here?” . For instance, in “family,” you might value being “loving, supportive, and present.” In “health,” you might value “respecting my body and being adventurous.” There are no wrong answers – your values are deeply personal.
Once you’ve named your values, brainstorm tiny actions or goals that express those values in your current life. The key is to focus on actions you can control that reflect your values, rather than external outcomes. For example:
This approach ensures that even if circumstances change, you can adapt the goal while still honoring the value. For instance, if you value creativity and your plan to join an art class falls through, you can still live that value by sketching at home or writing poetry. The form of the goal is flexible, the spirit of the goal remains constant.
Importantly, values-based goals tend to feel more intrinsically motivating because they’re connected to your core identity and purpose. Achieving them is not just checking a box; it’s fulfilling something deeply meaningful to you. They also provide comfort during chaos – you might not know where you’ll be in 5 years, but you can know how you intend to travel through life. As one therapist explains, values are “ways of being and doing” – like being loving, honest, or brave – that can guide us regardless of the circumstances .
If you’re struggling to identify your values, there are worksheets and exercises available (for example, values card sorts or the “Values Worksheet” from ACT ). Reflecting on role models (“What qualities in people do I admire most?”) or peak experiences (“When did I feel most fulfilled, and what values were present then?”) can also reveal your values.
A rigid plan can break under pressure; a flexible one can bend and adjust. Embracing flexible goal-setting means planning in shorter increments and being willing to revise your goals as new information comes in. Think of it like switching from a fixed blueprint to an agile approach for your life.
Set Short Time Horizons: Instead of a detailed 5-year plan, you might plan just 3-6 months ahead, or even one month at a time. Given your recent experiences, five years is too abstract and full of unknowns. But you probably have a sense of the next right steps or a general direction for the near future. For example, you might set a theme or general objective for the next quarter (e.g. “Fall 2025 is about healing and exploring my interests”). Within that, you can set a few gentle targets, like trying out a new hobby, scheduling medical checkups you’ve postponed, or reconnecting with friends – whatever fits your current needs. Every few months, you can reassess: What’s working? What isn’t? What do I want to focus on next? This iterative planning creates built-in flexibility.
Use “Growth Loops” Instead of Linear Goals: Entrepreneur Anne-Laure Le Cunff suggests reimagining goals as cycles of learning and growth, rather than one-and-done destinations . In her model, you commit to an action, carry it out, learn from the experience, and then adjust your next action . Each cycle is a loop that builds on the last, so you are continuously evolving. “We don’t go in circles, we grow in circles. Goals turn into growth loops.” What might this look like for you? Say you set a goal to “improve my social life” in this new uncertain phase. A growth loop approach would be: Pact → Act → Learn → Adjust:
Each loop “adds a layer of learning” about yourself . The focus shifts from reaching a fixed endpoint to engaging in a continuous, adaptive process. This not only yields better results (because you’re tweaking as you go), it also relieves pressure. “Achievement is simply the continuation of the learning cycle itself.” In other words, you succeed every time you complete the cycle and take away a lesson, regardless of any one event’s outcome.
Hold Goals Lightly (Goal Relinquishment): Some coaches talk about “goal relinquishment” – the idea of loosening your grip on goals so they don’t strangle the life out of you . What if achieving a specific outcome mattered a little less, and living in alignment with your intentions mattered a little more? This mindset says it’s okay to change or drop a goal if it’s not serving you or if life intervenes. You haven’t failed; you’re being responsive. The Jenna Kutcher blog we found shares a personal insight: when she became a new mom, she had to “learn to hold [her] goals a little looser,” adopting “surrender” as her word of the year . By doing so, she found that “the more I loosen my grip on my goals, the more creatively I can navigate my path” . In practice, this might mean turning a very specific goal into a broader intention. For example, instead of “I will run a marathon next year,” a looser version might be “I will maintain an active lifestyle and see how far I can go with running.” The latter still gives you direction and motivation, but it leaves room for exploration (maybe you end up loving 5K runs or switching to cycling – you still fulfilled the underlying intention of fitness).
Open Goals vs. Rigid Goals: A fascinating new research insight is the concept of “open goals.” Traditional goals are like “run 5 miles” or “lose 10 pounds” – specific targets. An open goal is more exploratory, like “see how far I can run” or “see what foods make me feel healthiest.” Open goals don’t have a fixed performance metric; instead, they invite curiosity and personal discovery . Studies have found that for complex or new challenges, open goals can reduce performance anxiety and encourage creative strategy-finding . For someone rebuilding their life, an open goal might be refreshing. Consider framing one of your aims in this open-ended way: for example, if you’re unsure what’s next in your career after a hiatus, an open goal could be “Explore what kind of work feels meaningful to me now.” There’s no failure in that goal – anything you do to explore (reading, networking, trying a short course) is progress. Open goals turn goals into invitations to engage, rather than pass/fail tests.
Minimum Viable Steps: Hand-in-hand with flexible planning is the idea of starting small. Set goals so tiny they almost seem trivial – what some call “minimum viable goals.” This comes from the business idea of a Minimum Viable Product: put out a simple version and iterate. In life, a “Minimum Viable Goal” (MVG) is “something so small it’s almost impossible not to achieve” . For instance, if reconnecting with purpose feels overwhelming, start with writing one line in a journal per day. If regaining fitness is daunting, start with 5 minutes of stretching in the morning. These MVGs build momentum and confidence . Each small win is a proof to yourself that you can set an intention and follow through. Over time, you naturally increase these goals. (One caregiver who had neglected self-care might set a MVG of drinking a glass of water first thing each morning – it sounds minor, but it’s a seed of self-respect that can grow into larger habits.) Small steps are not insignificant; they are exactly how big changes actually happen.
Rings of Growth: A cross-section of a tree trunk. Trees grow a ring at a time; your growth and goals can also build gradually, layer by layer. If one ring is smaller due to a hard year, the next can still flourish. This natural cycle illustrates the concept of “growing in loops” rather than shooting straight for a distant target.
When your life story takes an unexpected turn, it can be healing to actively rewrite your narrative and envision new chapters. A narrative approach to goal-setting means thinking of yourself as the protagonist in a story, rather than a worker on a fixed timeline.
Consider literally writing a narrative: “The Story of [Your Name], Chapter 2025.” In this chapter, you might describe the challenges you’ve faced (the “inciting incident” that threw the plot into chaos), and then imagine how the protagonist (you) finds a new way forward. What values or traits does she lean on? Who are the supporting characters? What is the tone of this chapter – one of learning, healing, discovery? By framing it as a story, you gain a bit of distance to see meaning in events. Narrative therapy techniques suggest that by retelling our story, we can externalize problems (seeing them as challenges in the plot, not intrinsic failures of the self) and identify themes of strength and resilience .
A practical narrative exercise is to write a letter from your future self. Imagine it’s 5 or 10 years in the future and you have come through this difficult period. What would that future self say to you now? What goals ended up mattering? Often, this compassionate future voice will focus on how you lived, how you grew, and reassure you that things worked out in unexpected ways. This can open your mind to goals that currently seem out of reach or unclear, by allowing a hopeful vision to take shape in story form.
You can also draw on the power of metaphors and archetypes: maybe you see your journey as a hero’s journey narrative, where you left the comfort of the known world, entered an ordeal (caregiving, trauma), and are now returning with new wisdom to apply to your life. In that framework, setting goals becomes about integrating that wisdom. For example, “Because I have learned what truly matters (through suffering), my goal is to rebuild my career in a way that aligns with my heart, not just status.” The goal shifts from a metric (e.g., “get a job with X salary”) to a narrative-driven aim (“create a working life that honors what I’ve been through and what I value now”).
Additionally, storytelling can help you find redemptive meaning in hardships. Is there a way in which this derailment of your plans has led to something meaningful? (It might be too soon to see it, and that’s okay. Time often reveals meanings we can’t see in the moment.) Some people eventually frame their trauma as a turning point that led them to a calling – for instance, a caregiver who, after their experience, sets a goal to advocate for Alzheimer’s research or to support other caregivers. That goal is directly born from their story. Only you can author your narrative, but know that it’s a work in progress. As Pema Chödrön noted, a big disappointment might be the beginning of a story, not the end .
If you prefer, you could also speak your story instead of writing – sometimes recording yourself talking about “what happened and what it means” can be illuminating. The aim is to move from seeing yourself as a passive victim of fate to an active storyteller who can create new meaning. Even if you can’t change events, you can always change the story you tell about them.
Another alternative model is to de-emphasize outcomes altogether and focus on the process – the daily or weekly habits and routines that create a fulfilling life. Author James Clear, in Atomic Habits, argues that “You do not rise to the level of your goals, you fall to the level of your systems.” In other words, setting up supportive routines (a system) is more effective than obsessing over big goals, because outcomes naturally follow from consistent action.
For someone recovering from a period of upheaval, habits can be a gentle way to rebuild continuity. They provide a sense of normalcy and accomplishment without the pressure of a big result. For example, instead of a goal like “Write a memoir about this experience,” a process-focused approach might be “Write for 20 minutes every morning.” Whether or not a memoir ever comes out isn’t the point initially; the point is you’re living a value (expressiveness, creativity) today. You can later shape the outcome if you want, but the habit itself is a success.
Process focus also means celebrating small wins regularly. Traditional goals often postpone any feeling of success until the very end (“I’ll be happy when I reach the goal”). In contrast, if your goal is to meditate 10 minutes daily, you get a win each day you do it. This builds positive momentum and actually retrains your brain: neuroscientists find that dopamine (the motivation chemical) is released not just when we achieve something, but also during the pursuit, especially when we recognize progress . By consciously noting your small successes (“I kept up my walking routine every week this month!”), you reinforce motivation and hope.
A process-oriented mindset can be combined with adaptive targets. For instance, you might set a process goal for the next month and then review. If it went well, maybe you ramp it up a bit; if not, you tweak it. This way, you’re always focusing on what you do, and measuring success by your engagement and learning, not by a fixed external benchmark.
Furthermore, process goals can help with the earlier mentioned arrival fallacy. If you learn to enjoy the process, you won’t pin all your happiness on the endpoint . Many people who’ve achieved big things report that after the initial high of achievement, they felt empty (“Is this it?”). Avoid that by making sure your journey itself is sustainable and meaningful. For example, if you’re rebuilding a career, don’t only focus on the end position; focus also on enjoying the retraining, the networking, the experimentation that gets you there. Then, wherever you end up, you haven’t put life on hold – you’ve lived fully along the way.
Finally, it’s worth adopting an emotionally compassionate approach to any goals. Recognize that you are not just a productivity machine; you are a whole person who has been through a lot. Goals should serve your well-being, not punish you or “fix” you. A few principles to keep in mind:
To move from surviving to thriving, it helps to rekindle a sense of future possibility – but without the rigidity that once caused you pain. Here are some ways to rediscover purpose and envision the future in an open, nurturing way:
To put these ideas into action, here is a toolkit of practices and reflections that you might find helpful. These honor the emotional complexity of what you’ve been through while offering realistic steps forward:
Reframing your relationship with goals after significant trauma or life change is a gradual process. It’s completely understandable that you feel hesitant – after all, your experience taught you that even the best-laid plans can unravel. But as you’ve seen, setting goals does not have to mean clinging to rigid plans or pretending you can control everything. Instead, it can become an exercise in hope and agency that coexists with uncertainty.
Remember: You are not starting from scratch; you are starting from experience. The resilience, patience, and insight you’ve gained in recent years are now your allies in shaping a new future. By focusing on what truly matters to you (your values and purpose), staying flexible in your methods, and being kind to yourself throughout, you can begin to set goals that feel inspiring rather than daunting.
Every small step counts. Every day that you choose to look forward – even a little – is a victory. Give yourself permission to dream in pencil, not ink. You might sketch a future and then erase and redraw it several times – that’s okay. In fact, that’s beautiful, because it means you are actively engaging with life, not just letting it happen to you.
As you venture onward, keep in mind Pema Chödrön’s wisdom that uncertainty is not a flaw in life, but a feature: “Impermanence is a principle of harmony. When we don’t struggle against it, we are in harmony with reality.” You can set goals and hold them gently, shaping your path in harmony with life’s changes. In doing so, you’ll likely find your faith in the future returning, not as blind optimism, but as a grounded hope – a hope built on the knowledge that come what may, you have the tools to adapt and the courage to create meaning at each turn.
You’ve weathered the storm; now a new chapter begins. It can be different from what you imagined – and still be deeply good. Here’s to setting out once more, with a flexible plan, a hopeful heart, and a clear compass pointing to what matters most to you.
1 Judith Herman, *Trauma and Recovery*. Basic Books, 1992.
2 Viktor Frankl, *Man’s Search for Meaning*. Beacon Press, 1946.
3 Pema Chödrön, *When Things Fall Apart*. Shambhala, 1997.
4 Adam Grant and Sheryl Sandberg, *Option B*. Knopf, 2017.