CONVERSATION 05For when you’ve become very good at doing what needs to be done, but you’re not entirely sure what you want anymore.
What do you want? Such a simple question, until somebody asks you properly. Your answer might arrive immediately, followed by a small committee explaining why it’s impractical, selfish or approximately ten years too late.
Before you’ve had a chance to want something, you’ve talked yourself out of it. Pull up a chair. Let’s hear the answer first.
Let yourself want it.
Children rarely follow “I want to live beside the sea” with a five-year feasibility study. As adults, we have money, work, children and other people’s feelings to consider. Those responsibilities matter, but they can crowd out the original question.
If you didn’t have to work out the practicalities just yet, what would you choose?
More romance? More money? A different career? To be looked after for once? You don’t have to make every desire sound noble before admitting to it. Perhaps you want freedom. Perhaps you also want a very beautiful kitchen.
Wanting something doesn’t commit you to pursuing it. For now, you’re simply noticing.
Would you want it if nobody knew?
Imagine there was nobody to impress, no Instagram post and no admiring “How does she do it?” Would you still want the bigger job, the busier diary or the same version of success?
You might. Keep that answer. But notice what falls away when nobody is watching.
Somebody else’s beautiful life isn’t necessarily your beautiful life. You can admire what she’s built without treating it as an instruction.
What would you still choose if it were only for you?
Think about an ordinary Tuesday.
Your life will contain far more Tuesdays than extraordinary occasions. What would make an ordinary day feel good to live?
Think about the pace of your morning, the people around you, the work you do and what you look forward to afterwards. Perhaps you want more company, more creativity or enough space to finish a thought.
You don’t need to design a perfect day. Notice two or three things you’d like more of, and anything you’d welcome less of.
There may be several versions of life you could love. You’re looking for a direction that feels like yours.
Give one want a little room.
Choose one thing that came up. When the inevitable “I can’t” follows, ask what it means. Is there a practical limit, something you don’t know yet or a fear worth understanding? You don’t have to dismiss the obstacle to explore your options.
If you’d like to, try one small way towards it. Give a creative idea an hour. Call the friend you miss. Look into the course without deciding whether to enrol.
Or simply admit what you want and sit with it for a while. It doesn’t need to become another project by lunchtime.
Some wants will pass. Others will keep returning. You’re allowed to pay attention, change your mind and discover something you hadn’t expected.
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.