On Wanting

Sometimes I stop myself
Before expressing what I want
Even to myself
It seems safer
Locked away
Unjudged
Undamaged
If I admit I want it
It becomes vulnerable to
Failure
Hurt
Pressure
Admitting I want it makes it real
No longer a fantasy I can keep to myself
Exposed
Terrified
Just waiting to move through the fear
To grow into whatever it will
If only given a chance

I’ve created such a block against the fear that comes with sticking my neck out and declaring my dreams that I cannot see them clearly when I try to reflect upon what I want. Questions about what I want, where I want to be and what I want to be doing are met with the mental equivalent of a tumble weed that distracts me from finding the answers buried somewhere in the landscape. I feel anxiety about not immediately knowing, and that only serves to hide the answers under more layers of dust kicked up by the distracting tumble weed.

My answers, when I am able to grasp them, are very broad, and their lack of specificity makes me afraid that I am just grasping at any pleasant words to put down so no one will notice that I don’t have a clue.

Quick, have a brilliantly original and well-planned thought!

I never have been especially exceptional at improv, but there came a point where I recognized that a lot of life is made up on the spot, and sometimes it pays off to accept the cue you are given and see where it goes. Don’t block yourself by stopping to worry that your first instinct won’t come across as funny or witty or attractive. Start by having a thought, then move onto the next one, and see where this trail leads you. Not all paths will lead to perfection – in fact, I doubt that even one path does – but it can be an interesting challenged to see who and what you meet while taking your journey, instead of assuming there are monsters around every possible corner.

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