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What I've Always Wanted
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It's not bad to want. Confusing want with need can be unhelpful, but wanting something is not in itself a bad thing.
What I've always wanted is freedom from "what if", not freedom from want. Almost every misstep or detour in my life has been due to my pursuit of certainty, of some kind of guarantee. Knowing intellectually that my safety is my own to create doesn't help, unfortunately.
Whether or not these things, ideas, or situations would serve me, or even be enjoyable, here are some of the things I've thought I've wanted over the years. I may still want some of them.
A home. I've purchased three, and sold three, because I didn't feel secure. What I really wanted was a sense of family, which I couldn't provide myself just by having cats. If home is where the heart is, then home must be just lateral to the left side of the sternum. Since the death of my grandparents in 1985, I haven't known where home was.
A partner. Two marriages didn't bring me this, although the first one was pretty close. I know I have to have my own life before I share it with someone else, but I want someone to share my life with. There is only so much I want to do alone. I need to give, to help, to learn to receive.
A tree house. As kids, my brother and sister and I would climb trees and designate our spots our "apartments". We even carved numbers in the bark of the Japanese plum tree and fought over which apartment we'd get each time we played there. Kids in the neighborhood would get a hold of a few planks and 2x4s and try to make something happen, but since this usually happened on someone else's property, the results were short-lived. I still long for a real tree house, one I can sleep in during the summer, one where I can go, bundled up, and read a book in among the leaves.
A loft apartment. I love huge, open spaces. The idea of living in one room is intriguing. I love to design spaces, and it would be so much fun to set up islands of life on the vast sea of floor.
A yurt. For some of the same reasons I'd like a loft, I'd like a yurt. The open floor space asks for flexibility, but unlike in a loft, also requires economy. The idea of living closer to the elements is both scary and interesting. I have some idea that I could live with wood stove heat and an outdoor shower, but I know that I’d wimp out in the winter. Nonetheless, I think living in a yurt for as much of the year as I could would be an experiment worth trying.
River-front property. Ever since I was little, the river was the destination: Index and the cabin especially. I see the s-bend in the river, the small side stream where we'd picnic and walk the creek looking for salmon fry. I see the spot where we would jump in for a roiling body-surf back to the cabin. The roar of the water is powerful, comforting, and inexorable. Visually, flowing water calms me.
A Fifties-inspired kitchen. I have the Fiesta Ware and the formica-and-chrome dinette set (gray crackle, if you must know). I can't decide on the total color scheme, but I think it would be black, turquoise and coral. There is a lot of stuff in the Mid-Century Modern style that I just hate, but I do love a touch of the Populuxe here and there.
A rooming house. Somehow, there is a little Anna Madrigal in me.
(Don't forget to visit me at Scoutblog.)
What I've always wanted is freedom from "what if", not freedom from want. Almost every misstep or detour in my life has been due to my pursuit of certainty, of some kind of guarantee. Knowing intellectually that my safety is my own to create doesn't help, unfortunately.
Whether or not these things, ideas, or situations would serve me, or even be enjoyable, here are some of the things I've thought I've wanted over the years. I may still want some of them.
A home. I've purchased three, and sold three, because I didn't feel secure. What I really wanted was a sense of family, which I couldn't provide myself just by having cats. If home is where the heart is, then home must be just lateral to the left side of the sternum. Since the death of my grandparents in 1985, I haven't known where home was.
A partner. Two marriages didn't bring me this, although the first one was pretty close. I know I have to have my own life before I share it with someone else, but I want someone to share my life with. There is only so much I want to do alone. I need to give, to help, to learn to receive.
A tree house. As kids, my brother and sister and I would climb trees and designate our spots our "apartments". We even carved numbers in the bark of the Japanese plum tree and fought over which apartment we'd get each time we played there. Kids in the neighborhood would get a hold of a few planks and 2x4s and try to make something happen, but since this usually happened on someone else's property, the results were short-lived. I still long for a real tree house, one I can sleep in during the summer, one where I can go, bundled up, and read a book in among the leaves.
A loft apartment. I love huge, open spaces. The idea of living in one room is intriguing. I love to design spaces, and it would be so much fun to set up islands of life on the vast sea of floor.
A yurt. For some of the same reasons I'd like a loft, I'd like a yurt. The open floor space asks for flexibility, but unlike in a loft, also requires economy. The idea of living closer to the elements is both scary and interesting. I have some idea that I could live with wood stove heat and an outdoor shower, but I know that I’d wimp out in the winter. Nonetheless, I think living in a yurt for as much of the year as I could would be an experiment worth trying.
River-front property. Ever since I was little, the river was the destination: Index and the cabin especially. I see the s-bend in the river, the small side stream where we'd picnic and walk the creek looking for salmon fry. I see the spot where we would jump in for a roiling body-surf back to the cabin. The roar of the water is powerful, comforting, and inexorable. Visually, flowing water calms me.
A Fifties-inspired kitchen. I have the Fiesta Ware and the formica-and-chrome dinette set (gray crackle, if you must know). I can't decide on the total color scheme, but I think it would be black, turquoise and coral. There is a lot of stuff in the Mid-Century Modern style that I just hate, but I do love a touch of the Populuxe here and there.
A rooming house. Somehow, there is a little Anna Madrigal in me.
(Don't forget to visit me at Scoutblog.)
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