What Do You Want?

What Do You Want?

It’s been nearly two years since I wrote most of this. Today, I opened it back up. Read it. Tweaked it.  Finished it. I wasn’t all that surprised to see that my feelings haven’t changed. I’ve been wondering what my next steps should be for a long time now. I’ve been reflecting and trying to break it all down. Make it make sense. Find my way to the other side of the fog that I’ve been walking through. I’m not there yet. I can’t quite see it. Can’t make it out. Not quite clear. Yet. I understand that whatever it is that I’m searching for … it’s quite simple. What I truly want. That part is clear.

In September, 2019 I went to a Rodan & Fields Convention in Nashville, TN. Something shifted for me during that trip. Something had already shifted. I’d known it. I just finally allowed myself to recognize it. 

I spent the entire plane ride home writing and reflecting …

What do you want? What do you truly want? 

It’s the question they asked over and over that weekend. I kept hearing it. It’s asked in a way that feels as if it should be easy. Easy to answer. Easy to know. But, it isn’t. It isn’t an easy question. 

Life is loud. Always moving. Always busy. Moving forward. All of the images. All of the time. In your face. You want this. You want that. You need this. You should be this. You should be more. And, so when the simplest of questions is asked, we pause. We don’t know what we want. We can’t remember. There is so much noise. Too much of all of it. The still, quiet, sure voice of our soul is muffled. 

What do you want?

What do I want?

I think … actually … maybe … I have it. I have all that I truly want most in life. This realization is beautiful and terrifying. 

There is always more to be had. Right? Goals to achieve. Dreams to see fulfilled. Materialistic mountains to conquer.

But, the core of what I want. The heart of it. I have it. Faith. Love. Family. Home. 

Where do you go from there? 

What are your goals? What is your passion? What fuels your fire? 

They kept asking. Pressing. Meaning to inspire. Hoping to motivate you to run their race.

Faith. Love. Family. Home. 

So, what if you don’t want to climb the mountain or run the race? Their race.

They are asking still … trying to light you on fire. Climb higher. Run faster. Turn up the volume. But, instead. Something different happens. The noise fades. Everything is still moving all around you. But inside. Everything quietens. Silently, you ponder what it is you truly want. The urgency they want you to feel falls flat. It doesn’t stick to you. There IS something more. Something you can’t quite place just yet. But, it is yours. Your own race to run. In your own time. In your own way. There is also a simplicity to it all. There is an easy answer. What I want …

It is … holding hands with my husband. Watching the sunset. Hearing my babies giggle. Quiet time with God. Snuggles. Warm blankets. Peace. Security. Hot coffee. Good friends. Time with my momma. Hugs from my dad. Watching the seasons change. Celebrating traditions. Creating warmth. Creating home. Loving my people. Fueling their souls. Encouraging their gifts. Finding beauty. Lifting others. Writing words that cause pause. Reflection. Maybe I was made for more. Maybe that will come. But, maybe I was made for this. This time. These moments. This life.