Nesting in the Tree with Strong Roots

Every time I decide it's time to write here, I get a little surprised at how long it's been.  I don't suppose it's good or bad, though; I certainly don't want to think of it as an obligation.  If I need to write, then I will.
And since this is my first time of the year writing here, it's certainly not too late to talk about New Year's stuff, even if we are two weeks in.

I've been thinking a lot about goals, recently.  Mostly about how it feels nice to be starting to even want them again, after Joanne passed, but getting past that, thinking about what they should be.  Right now, I'm imagining that my real goal for this year should be to create balance.  I feel like I want to work on "nesting," this year, giving myself a place where the roots sink deep into the ground.  Not that I won't still flow back and forth, because I have to be what I am, but to find the center so I can keep from going off course.

Right after Joanne passed away, I think my "hobby" was investing, for a while.  I inherited her retirement savings, and the whole concept of having a net worth (one that wasn't a negative number, at least) was new and exciting to me.  I wanted to learn all about how stocks worked, and do everything I could to make sure I was a good steward of Joanne's savings, to make sure it kept growing and would be there to provide for me, like she always said she wished she could do.  And I did have a goal in mind, thinking it would be good to be able to retire at 57 and 11 months--the age she was when she passed--which, coincidentally, would have me retiring on her 73rd birthday, in 2031.
But of course, that can't be everything.  The question I never asked myself then was, "And then what?"

Since then, I've been off on other things:  I relived my childhood a little and bought toys, for a while.  I got myself all into self-protection and learning how to shoot, for a year or so.  I turned irritation with busy stores into a goal of stocking enough food to avoid shopping during next year's holiday season.  Most recently, I let a decision to diversify my savings with bullion coins turn into an infatuation with round shiny objects.
The common thread with all of those, is that I have a tendency to make each one of them "all there is," while they're the New Thing.  But of course, none of those things can be everything, either.

I want my goal this year to be to fit those things together.  It feels like they should fit together.  The coins feel like they should fit into the investing; the investing and the self-protection feel like they should fit into the preparedness.  (The expensive and space-consuming Japanese toys can probably go on eBay, which will make them fit into the investing too.)

Then, if I can get things fitting together without focusing too much on one single piece, maybe I can find other things that fit, too.  Finally get back to doing some crafting, and finishing some cross-stitch projects?  Maybe try my hand at gardening?  Even just finding an enjoyable way to donate time to my church.  But first, I need to make the foundation--I need to build that nest, in the tree with the strong roots--so that those things have a strong base to stand on, and fit with, and won't fall apart as soon as I'm on to the next thing, anymore.