What I Want

I want to be here, at my laptop, dog on lap, writing.

I want to do this consistently. To show up to this craft as a woodcutter shows up to her wood, or a seamstress shows up to sew.

I want to walk in nature for hours without my phone.

I want to laugh; to look at the world, and its people, and find things worth laughing about.

I want to understand why there’s a drive in me to pull away from the ones I love, why heavy, negative thoughts so often drag me down, and how I can make the most of all that I’ve been given – this day, these hands, these thoughts, these emotions.

I want to stand up taller. Your posture is your pride. I want to walk with my head held high.

I want to grow.

I want to go climbing.

I want to feel better, more of the time.

I want to take risks and be brave with my life.

I want to express myself creatively in all sorts of ways.

I want to dance.

I want to soak up every moment my dog is in my life, since I know she’ll be gone too soon. How can someone so small bring so much love into life?

I want to turn down the volume on the inner critic, to speak and sing and offer ideas and form an opinion and get really curious and do something from start to finish and create things I can be proud of.

I want to stretch this ever-older, tight body of mine.

I want to belong, as we all do.

I want to help raise a confident, secure, strong girl who knows, accepts and likes who she is.

I want to connect with my family.

I want to share my stories and experiences.

I want to do what I can to help others to grow and know they are not alone.

I want to be in love.

I want to paint.

I want to encounter my soul.

I want to travel more.

I want to be hopeful, and generous, and to contribute something that helps.

I want to have more fun.

I want a home that feels wonderful to be in.

I want to read a thousand more books before I die.

I want to be satisfied.

I want a sense of community.

I want to be amazed.

I want to know confidence. To smile without wincing and to pose without shame.

I want to feel the sun penetrate my skin and warm my bones to the core.

I want to live my life and know that I was here for it. That I was fully alive.

It’s not realistic to expect every day to be full of sunshine and rainbows. I don’t expect that. Like you, I’ve had my fair share of shitty days, hard seasons, stuff so difficult to deal with that all I can do is crawl into my bed and cry. This year has been a tough one so far, in so many ways. Yet we are so resilient. We keep going, with our scars and wounds, our secret pain and dark thoughts, our fledgling hopes like tiny baby birds, so fragile, so tenacious.

Some of these things I want are within reach. Others will take some work. In naming these items, I’m not trying to stamp my foot self-centredly or demand that life grants me wishes upon wishes. I’m simply trying to water the soil in which each of these desires is planted, to nourish the seedling of the want so that they can take root in my life.

And what about you? What is it that you want for your life?

Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash. Thank you, Masaaki.