"I don't have to move any faster than that..."

My goal of having a donkey and a cart and riding the donkey cart to Harris Teeter to buy my groceries arose from a revelation that I'm tired of rushing around, and donkey speed is fast enough for me.

Pursuant to the goal, I've engaged in many projects, small and large. Working on these projects I suddenly learned something vital:

When something impedes my movement towards a goal, I should reframe the goal.

• When we were framing the donkey shed, vines on the ground were tripping me and making me furious. So the new goal became: pull the vines out of the ground. I put down the hammer and yanked up hundreds of vines. Then I went on with the framing.
  
  
• When Menticia and I put a garden cart together, we found one of the wheels had a defective innertube and would not hold air. I was furious until I realized my goal now actually had to be: buy a new innertube and inflate the wheel.
  
  
• There was a huge crater in the "pasture" and I was irritable thinking about filling it in. I realized this irritation came from judging the new garden cart too rickety for the job. The new goal became: reinforce the garden cart.
  
  After corner irons, screws and screwdriver were found (one goal), I installed the irons (another goal), and put the screwdriver and screws away (another goal), and then the cart was sturdy and I was ready to fill the cart with mulch and dumping the mulch in the crater.
  
  However, at this point I was stopped again, because the removable front of the garden cart seems to remove itself at the slightest provocation, causing copious mulch to fall out of the cart. I was ready to shout.
  
  Then I realized I had to reframe the goal again. Now the goal must be: fix the front of the cart. The rest of the mulch will have to wait until later.
  

I know this must seem obvious, but - like my earlier revelation that it's good when all the hangers on a closet rod face in the same direction - it's providing me with belated pleasure.