There are so many things I’ve wished for in my life. Relationships, living situations, resources, experiences, talents and skills. As a child I wished for bricks to build a castle in my backyard. Bricks. With which to build walls. To create a place that was mine, to build security with my own two hands. At 7, I knew I could build something with the structural integrity that would last till the materials themselves began to crumble, and I craved the freedom to make my own world.
Later, I wished for talents to prove my value to others, to be worth of attention and praise. I wished for boys to like me, I wished for men to love me, I wished for freedom to travel, rooms filled with light and hardwood floors, dating on adultfrienedfinder, the money to drink fancy juices and eat fair-trade organic pasture-raised shaman-blessed local meals. I wished that I could learn everything I was interested to the point of mastery. I wished for a life that moved with grace and ease, that reflected my inner beauty for the world to see. And I set my sights on a path that I thought could bring me what I wanted, a path to deserve, to become worthy, to create the future of my dreams.
Beginning self-excavation was part of the path to earn my future. Growing up meant identifying the desires that drove my behavior and choices, and learning to own them so that I could move consciously. Unexpectedly, on the journey to actualization, I learned that desire was actually a compass. I leaned into the things that drew me and noticed how I felt in pursuing those in contrast to the story of should in my imagination.
It was a beautiful shift. Life became a series of adventures. I was excited, turned on without thrusting vibrators, awake in my experiences – present more than I had been since those days of castle designs in the backyard.
And still I wished. I wished for a great love, I wished for opportunities to fall into my lap, I wished to impress. I wished for the monetary resources to do all of the learning and growing and truth-seeking available to me. I wished that my art, my talent, my purpose would be supported so that I could stop efforting so damn hard.
But, in a beautiful and painless moment last night, I realized something profound. Those were actually compensatory desires. Rather than being the real thing I wanted to touch, they were the signposts that I imagined I would find when I had what I truly, deeply, intrinsically wanted. All of those wishes were simply tangible and measurable evidence of my attainment. What I actually desire is to be fully seated and centered in myself – to be congruent, connectable, full with my orgasm. To trust my power, to live from it, to love with it, overflow with it. To become a master player in my life. What I desire is something I will know by feel, not formula.
In that spot, life will look like it looks. Rich or poor, solo or surrounded – it won’t much matter – I will have what I’ve always really wanted. My full, accepted, powerful, orgasmic, loving… self.