What do you really want?
WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT?
I was asked this question last year when I flew to Toronto for an intensive with my coach, Tanya Geisler. Among all the type-A goodness I went to uncover, the book proposal I was planning and all the ideas I had for my business, she stopped me dead in my tracks by asking me:
“Madison, what do you really want?”
I gave my answers:
Business: A book deal. Easier launches.
Relationships: A thriving marriage. Deep friendships.
Life: Room for creativity. Full expression.
But she pressed in, “Go deeper. If possibilities were limitless, and you had no one else’s feelings to consider, what would you want?”
“I want the freedom to fully express. To create, commune and connect with others. I want the depth that comes from inquisitive exploration, in both my work and my life. I want to deeply enjoy the people I serve, not just sell to them on a never-ending launch schedule. I want to write, speak, teach and be paid well for my expertise. I want my life to be about experience, service and connection. I want to make art, make friends, make love, make food. I want to create from Spirit and with soul. I really want to make an impact on a broader scale, without over-giving. I want to be known for excellence in my field. I want to feel supported. I want more adventure, daily life and fun. More intimacy. I want to feel like I have a safe place to land in my life with rich convo, spirit and sisterhood. I want to feel more free to be the full and radical person I am.”
I was stunned.
I deeply knew what I wanted, but it was overwhelming to admit the level of depth, richness and vulnerability it would take to get there. It forced me to realize, once again, I’d outgrown the life I was living.
It is confronting as hell to get real about what we really want.
Because it means we either own up to what our soul wants, take responsibility and make the changes to align to our truth, or we sink back and allow ourselves to live a life too small for us.
“Knowing can be a curse on a person’s life. I’d traded in a pack of lies for a pack of truth, and I didn’t know which one was heavier. Which one took the most strength to carry around? It was a ridiculous question, though, because once you know the truth, you can’t ever go back and pick up your suitcase of lies. Heavier or not, the truth is yours now.”
Once you get a glimpse of who you really are and what you want beyond your programming, there is no going back.
Sure, you can play the part for a while, you can step back in line, go back to your tireless job, the relationships, the old patterns and lack of boundaries.
But you’re not the same: you cannot unsee.
So don’t mistake that ping of frustration--that longing on your heart for more freedom, the way you crave “more”-- as selfish or insignificant.
Once you see, you cannot unsee.
And sooner or later, your soul will nudge you to start moving in the direction of wholeness. As Sue Monk Kidd says, “heavier or not, the truth is yours now.”
It was in that session with Tanya that I decided to stop sipping from anything or anyone not quenching the thirst for depth and aliveness I was after. I committed myself to drinking deeply, even if it meant going thirsty for a while.
What did this mean?
It meant stronger boundaries. It meant owning my power. It meant asking myself what I really wanted, and going after it fiercely, even if others didn’t understand:
I made big relational decisions.
I started showing up differently for myself, with deeper devotion.
I stopped over-sharing with people who didn’t know how to be a safe space.
I allowed people to be disappointed in me.
I stopped over-giving.
I stopped making excuses for people.
I started investing myself in a life that was bigger. A life that had room for all of me.
Because the truth is, it stole from my energy
to pretend I didn’t know what I wanted.
I did know.
And today, if you’re pretending you don’t know what you want, if you’re living in a life much too small for you, even if you’ve only seen a glimpse of the expansion or freedom in another person, I want you to claim it for yourself.
You do know.
Allow yourself to want it.
Allow yourself to want a bigger life, and feel the vulnerability of your desire.
You, my love, are allowed to want. And you’re allowed to drink of it deeply.
In possibility,
xx,
-Madison