Mentavo
Exercise, a language, the side project, less time on the phone, more contact with old friends, and at some point the book.
Each of these is sensible on its own. Together they produce a familiar state: things are happening, but nowhere enough to feel like progress – plus a persistent sense of being behind on all of it.
The obvious explanation is discipline. In most cases it's the wrong one.
Closer to the truth is a calculation that rarely gets made: how many plans can actually run on the time and attention that exist?
Why more goals don't mean more progress
Two plans that don't get in each other's way really do run in parallel. The moment they need the same resources – evenings, concentration, energy after work – a competition starts that planning can't dissolve.
Research on pursuing several goals at once points in a similar direction: when demanding plans compete for the same means, what usually drops isn't overall effort but commitment to individual goals. One gets set aside so another stays reachable – frequently without that decision being made explicitly.
That's the uncomfortable part. A selection happens, just not consciously. And because nothing was officially dropped, every plan stays on the list.
The difference between a goal and a wish
A plan is active when three things are settled:
- A slot. Not "regularly", but a day and a rough time this week.
- A next step. Concrete enough that you could start it today.
- A visible sign. Something that shows progress without consulting your mood.
If one of those is missing, the plan isn't a goal. It's a wish.
The distinction sounds strict and works as relief. Wishes are allowed to stay undefined; they only cost something once they're treated like goals – as something you're currently behind on.
The capacity check
One pass, about ten minutes, once a quarter.
Step one: write down everything currently running as a plan – including the half-finished, the old, the ones that feel obvious.
Step two: next to each line, check the three conditions and note what's actually there.
| Plan | What is actually settled | Verdict |
|---|---|---|
| Run twice a week | Tue 7am and Sat morning; shoes by the door; entries that week | active goal |
| Learn Spanish | none of it | wish |
| Side project | Sunday afternoon; sketch the landing page; sketch exists | active goal |
| Less time on the phone | a metric only (screen time) | wish |
Step three: only rows where all three conditions are present are active goals. Everything else is currently a wish – regardless of how often you think about it.
For most people one or two rows come out complete. That's the actual finding: what's missing isn't motivation but structure, and on most of the list at that.
One in front, two alongside, the rest parked
The workable split for most circumstances:
- One main goal. It gets the best stretch of the week, not the leftovers.
- At most two side goals. Smaller in scope, with a clear minimum rather than a maximum ambition.
- Everything else: parked, with a date.
Parking isn't deleting. It means writing it somewhere it will resurface – in three months, say.
That difference matters more than it sounds. A deleted goal feels like failure; a parked one feels like sequencing. And findings on unfulfilled intentions suggest that a concrete plan for when something gets looked at again is enough to reduce how present it stays.
In Mentavo, goals can be stored with such a date and reappear on the day in question; in between they stay in the overview without running alongside your day.
Why parking is so hard
Letting a goal go rarely feels like prioritizing. It feels like taking back part of your own ambition.
Behind that sits a quiet equation: someone with many plans is someone who wants things. Fewer plans therefore seem to mean less ambition – even though in practice they almost always mean more results.
There's also the case where a goal no longer fits your circumstances and runs on anyway, because it mattered once. That pattern is described in the piece on the version of you that no longer fits your life.
A useful question: if I heard about this plan for the first time today, would I take it on?
Routines don't count
A common error in the capacity check: carrying established habits along as goals.
What already runs consumes little attention. It needs no decision, no run-up, no nerve – so it doesn't occupy one of the three slots. Why repetition is more stable than resolve in this respect is covered in the piece on small habits.
The distinction is worth making because it frees space: some things sitting on the list as goals became routine long ago and don't need pursuing.
Signs that it's too many
- You can't answer "what are you working on right now" in one sentence.
- There's been progress for weeks, but none of it is visible anywhere.
- Every free evening feels like a choice rather than a rest.
- With three plans, you think about the other two while working on one.
What this article doesn't claim
There's no universal ceiling for goals. Circumstances differ, and some phases allow more than others.
Nor does this piece claim ambition is the problem. The problem usually isn't the number of wishes but the unspoken expectation that all of them make progress at the same time.
If a constant sense of overload persists regardless of how many plans you hold, that points to something else – and a conversation with a professional is more useful than another round of reordering.
Conclusion: sequence is the real decision
The question is rarely which goals are worth it. Nearly all of them are.
The question is which ones are running now – and which are waiting for a time that actually has room for them.
Write that sequence down once and you lose nothing. You just stop owing six of them at the same time.
