Traversing through fog is about what it's like to have a goal off in the distance. You know the starting point which is wherever you are at the moment, you know the ending point, but the middle is foggy.
Those are the times I remember to take just the next step. I don't have to see the next ten steps. When I keep going toward that goal in the distance, as I make my way through the fog, each step the was previously hidden is plain to see when it's the next step.
Big goals and little can both be approached this way.
Last year, we had the goal to buy the house we now occupy. I'd never bought a house before. Kris bought our old house before we were married. This time around I handled all the business of it.
Goal: buy a specific house. Starting point: talk to the bank. I talked to the wrong bank at first; ours doesn't handle mortgages, but they pointed me in the right direction. Each step I took, the next one became plain to see.
Goal: pay off the stupid mortgage. (We hate debt.) Starting point: X dollars. Divide the mortgage amount by the number of years in which we want to have it paid off. I know there is interest. But I also know that when we focus on a goal, we achieve it much faster than we planned. Thus, our goal for paying off the mortgage is five years. Two would be great. Paying in cash would have been the best.
The foggy part of this goal is the logistics. It will look different from month to month as expenses vary. Paying extra on the principal is an adult thing to do. That means we can't act like children. We have to say "NO" to ourselves. We can't go save big money at Menard's. (You walk in there needing deck screws and come out with a new refrigerator.)
Goal: clean-enough-not-to-be-embarrassed house. Starting point: standing in the middle of stinky laundry. Put in a load. As you just do one thing, the next task will become apparent.
To wrap up this train of thought: don't get paralyzed by not seeing every single step toward your goal. Keep focused on progressing toward that goal, and you'll see each step as you get closer to it.
New random train of thought: All is quiet again for the day. Dinner was a reminder of why I don't buy freezer pot pies except once every twenty years. The crust is good, but the faux chicken? It tastes like the coagulation of whatever the meat plant swept off the floor and a used dish washing sponge. In any case, it did the job of filling bellies.