What Do I Actually Want?
CONVERSATION 05A conversation for when you've become very good at doing what needs to be done, but you're not entirely sure what you want anymore.
Pull up a chair.
What do you want?
It's such a simple question. Until somebody asks you properly.
Not what do you need to do next. Not what would make the most sense. Not what would be best for everyone. Not what can you afford, fit in, manage or make work.
What do you actually want?
Maybe you know immediately. Maybe you haven't got a clue. Maybe the answer comes into your head and you dismiss it almost as quickly as it arrived.
That's unrealistic.
I couldn't do that.
What about everyone else?
I'm too old.
It's too late.
That's a bit selfish.
Who do I think I am?
Before you've even had the chance to want something, you've already explained to yourself why you can't have it.
So for a little while, let's not do that.
When did wanting become so complicated?
Children are very good at wanting things.
They want to be an astronaut. Wear the sparkly shoes. Have ice cream for breakfast. Live beside the sea. Paint their bedroom purple. Get a dog.
They don't usually follow it with a five-year feasibility study.
Then we grow up. And wanting becomes tangled up with being sensible.
Money. Children. Work. Relationships. Mortgages. Other people's feelings. What we already committed to. What people might think.
Of course those things matter.
But somewhere amongst all that practicality, it's very easy to stop asking yourself the original question.
If none of that needed solving for a moment, what would I choose?
You don't have to do anything about the answer. We're just interested in hearing it.
What would you want if nobody else knew?
This is an interesting one.
Because sometimes what we want is influenced by being seen wanting it.
The impressive job. The beautiful house. The relationship. The body. The holiday. The success.
So imagine nobody could ever see your life. There was nobody to impress. Nobody to prove anything to. Nobody looking at your Instagram. Nobody comparing. Nobody saying wow.
What would you still want?
Would you still want the bigger job? Would you still want to live where you live? Would you still want to be as busy as you are? Would you spend your money in the same way? Would success look the same? Would your days?
There are no right answers here.
You might discover that you genuinely do want some of those things.
Good. Want them.
But perhaps a few things fall away when nobody is watching.
And what do you want that you keep pretending you don't?
Sometimes we know exactly what we want. We just don't particularly like the answer.
You might want more money. More attention. More romance. More sex. More freedom. A beautiful home. A different career. Another child. No more children. To be looked after for once. To be wildly successful. To work less. To leave. To stay. To fall in love. To spend more time alone. To start again. To be seen. To disappear for a while.
Wanting something doesn't make you ungrateful for what you already have. And wanting something that sounds superficial doesn't automatically make it superficial.
Sometimes we make our desires more respectable before we're willing to admit to them.
I don't want money, I want freedom.
Maybe. But perhaps you also want money.
You're allowed to say that. You don't have to turn every desire into something noble before you're allowed to have it.
Whose life are you measuring yours against?
Sometimes we don't know what we want because we're surrounded by other people's answers.
You see somebody move to the countryside and suddenly wonder if you should leave the city.
Someone builds an enormous business and you wonder whether you're ambitious enough.
Someone gives everything up to travel and you wonder whether you're wasting your life.
Someone gets married and you wonder why you aren't.
Someone gets divorced and seems completely free and you wonder whether you've settled.
Someone has the perfect house, body, career, family, wardrobe, social life.
And without really noticing, their life becomes evidence about yours.
But somebody else's beautiful life isn't necessarily your beautiful life.
You are allowed to look at something wonderful and think:
Good for her. Not for me.
What do you want your life to feel like?
Forget what it looks like for a moment.
Think about an ordinary Tuesday.
You wake up.
How do you want to feel?
Rushed? Calm? Excited? Safe? Desired? Useful? Free? Creative? Loved? Energised? Peaceful?
Who is around you? What does your morning look like? How much are you working? What are you working on? Do you have somewhere to be, or nowhere you need to be?
What do you hear? What do you wear? What are you looking forward to later?
This doesn't need to be some perfect fantasy life.
In fact, forget the fantasy.
What would make an ordinary day feel really good to live?
Because ultimately, your life is going to contain far more Tuesdays than extraordinary moments.
There might be more than one version.
This can be strangely freeing.
Perhaps there isn't one perfect life waiting for you to choose it correctly. Maybe you could be happy living by the sea. And happy in the middle of a city.
Maybe you could build the company. And perhaps you could choose a quieter life.
Maybe you could fall deeply in love. And you could also create a beautiful life while you're waiting for that person to arrive.
There may be several lives you could love. You don't have to identify the single correct one and then panic about getting there.
You just need to notice which direction feels more like you.
Be careful with “I can't.”
Sometimes I can't really does mean I can't. There are realities we can't simply wish away.
But sometimes it means:
I don't know how yet.
It would be difficult.
Somebody might not like it.
I'd have to change something.
I'm frightened it wouldn't work.
I'm frightened it would.
Those are different things.
So take something you want and listen to what happens immediately afterwards.
I want ________.
Then notice the next sentence.
If it's but I can't because...
Ask yourself:
Is that completely true?
Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. You don't have to solve it today.
Just don't close the door before you've even looked through it.
Let yourself want it first.
We're very quick to turn a desire into a plan.
How would I do it? How much would it cost? When could it happen? What would I need to change? Who would I need to speak to?
And suddenly something that felt exciting five minutes ago has become another project to manage.
So don't make the plan yet. Just let yourself want something.
Without earning it. Without explaining it. Without knowing how you'll get there. Without deciding whether it's realistic.
What would you love?
Not forever. Not for the rest of your life.
Right now.
What would you love more of? What would you love less of? What would you love to experience? What would you love to create? What would you love someone to give you? What would you love to give yourself?
Pay attention to the answers that make something in you wake up a little.
Choose one thing.
Now we can make it smaller.
Look at everything that came up and choose one thing you want.
Not necessarily the biggest. Just one that feels true.
And ask:
Is there a tiny way I can move towards this now?
If you want more beauty, perhaps you don't need the dream house yet. Start with the room you're sitting in.
If you want adventure, perhaps you don't need to move countries. Go somewhere you've never been this weekend.
If you want to create something, give it an hour.
If you want more friendship, make the call.
If you want more romance, stop saving all the beautiful things for when somebody else is there.
If you want a different life entirely, perhaps the first step is simply allowing yourself to admit that you do.
You don't need to know the whole route before you take one step in the right direction.
Before you get up...
You are allowed to want things.
Big things. Small things. Impractical things. Beautiful things. Things that make absolutely no sense to anybody else.
You are allowed to change your mind about what you thought you wanted. You are allowed to outgrow a dream. You are allowed to want more while still being grateful for what you have.
And you don't need to make every desire happen.
Some wants will pass. Some will change. And some will keep quietly returning until you finally pay attention.
Perhaps those are worth listening to.
The chair will still be here when you come back.
One thing to take with you
Before I ask whether I can have it, I'm allowed to ask whether I want it.