If you are a regular reader of this column, you already know how I feel about the new year. This is the time for turning dreams into goals and for choosing new paths where old ones have petered out. My regrets do not involve past plans gone awry so much as the limited number of new plans I can enact. How does one choose from so many options?

I write about this dilemma every January, usually giving pithy tips for setting goals and moving forward. And yet, not even an optimist can dispute that some new years are harder than others. Sometimes the hardship reflects a personal struggle, such as an illness or injury. Other times the hardship is tied to broader economic issues, such as the job market or the current mortgage crisis.

I was thinking about this situation when I came across a column I wrote four months after Sept. 11, 2001. Although we are in a different place mentally and spiritually as a nation, I notice similar economic uncertainties defining both periods. Here is what I wrote then; perhaps it will provide a spark as you head into 2008.

Our troubles are almost too numerous to list: an uncertain economy, the threat of terrorism, a proposed war that a third of our citizens don't support, budget crises at every level of government . . . and an unemployment rate that we can't be sure has crested.

AMY LINDGREN

WORKING STRATEGIES

In the face of such uncertainty, how can we go about making our small plans? How can we assure ourselves that our planning will matter? We can't. And yet, of course, we must. Because not planning for the future is another way of endangering it. Our plans give us the structure and hope to move forward.

If you are looking for work, your plans are probably on hold. Bills may be piling up, along with social obligations and even routine duties, such as going to the dentist. So much depends on that paycheck! Perhaps too much depends on the paycheck.

It doesn't take much financial savvy to know that Americans spend money on things we don't need. But it takes enormous personal honesty to redefine the word "need" in each of our own lives.

Some of the things my job-seeking clients say they need in their lives — which is why they are waiting for jobs with big enough paychecks — include private education for their children, homes with large yards, meals in restaurants, late-model cars . . . Even my clients of modest means "need" things such as new DVDs and weekly pizza deliveries that make peace in the household.

And I do, too. If it sounds like I'm judging other people's use of money, then I'm not writing clearly. My point is that we have lost track of our money, and we don't seem to know anymore what we really need.

I remember gasping when I read that Sarah Susanka, author of "The Not So Big House," was selling the home that inspired her book and a national architectural movement toward smaller living spaces. Having never read the book, I assumed she and I shared a definition of "not so big." But, at 2,400 square feet, Susanka's not-so-big house likely was larger than the homes lived in by most of the world's population.

So I wonder. How much do we truly need? If we needed less, could we take lower-paying jobs and not feel as if we were compromising? If we took lower-paying jobs, could we work in our own neighborhoods and walk, instead of needing multiple family cars? If we walked to work, would gas prices be easier to bear? Would we be more likely to form friendships in our neighborhoods and less likely to move to "better" neighborhoods?

If you are unemployed or struggling with a mortgage crisis of your own, this may seem like an esoteric line of thought. You don't have the privilege of deciding how to spend money you don't have. But you do — always — have the opportunity to start over.

For now, take the best job you can get quickly. Don't hold out for just the right thing if you're running out of resources. Make this new job work for you, ride out these uncertain times and keep your spirit intact until you can get back to turning dreams into plans again.

In the meantime, remember: Sometimes the best plan you can make is just to hang on until things get better.

- Amy Lindgren owns Prototype Career Service, a career consulting firm in St. Paul, Minn. She can be reached at alindgren@prototypecaree rservice.com or at 1071 W. Seventh St., St. Paul, MN 55102.