She asked it in the kind of way that sounded both like an accusation and an invitation.
“But, what do you WANT?“
As if the sentence actually only needed to be one word to cut through my elusive bullsh*t. That one word that I’ve disliked for so long. It always sounded so greedy. So selfish. So entitled. So privileged.
I wanted to recoil into myself. Freeze my face like Zoom lost internet connection and drop off the call. Or preach about how it’s not about “wanting” things vs. receiving things. Being motivating by what the world needs and what we can offer, instead of our personal agenda.
But, I respected this strong woman way too much to not listen. And so I tried to respond as earnestly, lovingly and bluntly as this question was posed.
I stuttered out bits and pieces of this life goal and that personal passion.
It was not an answer. And it wasn’t helpful.
A clear, succinct description that she could act on. That the universe could act on. Most importantly, that I could act on.
This question haunted me all summer long — every mile I hiked, every river I crossed, every view I saw — as I lived my way to an answer.
At first the answer seemed easy. Everything I already knew: family, kids, nature, writing, teaching, retreating and ultimately, what I was put on earth to do in this lifetime — to make spirituality accessible to all.
This was what I wanted. These wants actually felt more like needs. And unfulfilled, they felt like longings.
Because I felt called to them. Magnetically pulled in an irresistible way. A way that wouldn’t quit, hadn’t quit for a decade. Really for my whole life.
For weeks after remembering all this, the question still haunted me. While warm and fuzzy, this was not a clear, succinct description that I could act on. Because I couldn’t perfectly imagine my next job, my home, my partner, my kids etc. I thought I couldn’t get started.
But, I had started. Wholeheartedly saying yes to the vision. Saying yes to anything that was a step in that direction, whether or not it “looked” like what I was expecting. And saying no to negativity, distractions and excuses.
And, the universe could definitely act on this.
Next week, Part 2: The next turning point came in late August, right before my birthday, when I spent a sunny day on the porch and finished getting out of my own way.
May you have the courage to say no to all negativity, distractions and excuses this week.
Love,
Jules
I share a lesson learned about integrity every Monday. Sign up for delivery right to your inbox. Want more? There’s lots more lessons learned here on my blog, so have fun exploring and commenting about your own insights!