What we want the most
Figuring out what we like and giving ourselves permission to desire more for our life. Which reminds me of one special moment 9 years ago today.
The email arrived last week, a note filled with an opportunity and the question, “Maybe this might work out for you??”
I knew the sender of this email; this wasn’t a spammy marketing email, of which I get too many. Anyone else on a mission lately to purge your inbox of the seemingly endless stream of such messages? I’m doing this and yet there are still so many arriving every day. This email, though, was in fact completely legit – and thrilling! – and it was just for me.
Still, its contents caught me off guard, albeit in a good way, and it kick-started what ended up turning into something of an emotional ordeal. What did this look like? Several days of pondering whether this possibility, this thing that felt a little once-in-a-lifetime, was pie in the sky or actually do-able. I turned this idea over in my head quite a bit, nearly nonstop it felt like, and then talked it through with Joe once I realized just how much I wanted it and thought, maybe? Maybe this could work out? Oh, I wanted this badly.
The (over)thinking continued for another day or so. I needed to get back with the email sender. I kept wondering and oscillating.
Is the timing right? Well, maybe.
Could I take (more) time away from work to do this? Possibly, though our family’s recent spring break trip took a chunk out of my vacation time.
Could I/we really afford the financial cost of it? There was a special offering provided to me, saving me some serious cash, but there would be out-of-pocket costs involved.
Most importantly and interestingly, I came to realize as the days went by, I asked myself this: was wanting this too much? And ickier thoughts: Did I even deserve this opportunity? Would it be in any way irresponsible to desire this for myself?
Listen, it’s not as though I don’t value and care for myself. At 49, I believe in the importance of investing in myself, in both big and small ways. On a larger scale, I’m fully embracing my participation (and big investment) in a 10-month-long graduate-level book-writing academy. And then daily, I do my best to incorporate activities that bring me joy, that help me feel like my healthiest self.
The little, important things: I make a point to have coffee, just the way I like it first thing in the morning, and to take time by myself with said coffee to fully wake up (please give me about 20 minutes before we get into a conversation) and to ease into the day. I also get outside for solo walks or runs in the woods, treat myself on occasion to an afternoon iced latte from my favorite coffeeshop or to those utterly unmatched cheesy-veggie quesadillas from Spanglish when I’m out and about running errands. I’m pretty consistent about stepping away from my desk over the noon hour and am known to savor a chapter of the great book I’m reading while sitting and eating lunch rather than stuffing food into my mouth while multi-tasking. Sometimes, I stare off into space and do nothing for a few minutes, and I don’t feel guilty about that. I find naps delicious.
In other words, overall and whenever possible, I try to be kind to myself. (I can be hard on myself, like we all can, but I’m continually working on keeping that in check.)
And the older I get, the more I recognize — and own — the things I like, the quirks I have, the way of doing things that make me me. I haven’t always been this way. I wish it wasn’t true, but for a long time — much of my life? — I was more concerned with what others thought I should do or think and did what it seemed to take to fit in, rather than ask myself, “What do you want, Heather? How would this work out for you?” Now, it feels good to know and honor myself. I’m getting better at this every day. Reaching midlife and giving fewer f*cks and all that.
But then something big-ish comes along, something that for sure, I think, wouldn’t have been possible in previous years because the kids were younger, finances were tighter, work obligations were greater/different … and, and … and I get excited. Life is opening up more these days, because of a shift in my career path in recent time, coupled with my growing clarity around how I envision the next decade and beyond looking like.
Now, what truly is possible is changing. And, it’s probably no coincidence that when we get more in tune with ourselves, when we are who we are, we can see these possibilities more clearly, with our eyes and heart wide open.
This doesn’t mean, of course, that everything I want can happen all at once and I can throw all caution to the wind and say yes to it all. If anything, the increasing possibilities require greater prioritization, and I believe I’m becoming more adept at this process.
If I can’t do it all, what do I really, really want to do at this specific time? What makes the most sense for right here, right now, for me and also for the people I care about? What can wait a bit? What do I need to do now, practically speaking, so that my vision for tomorrow comes to life? These are the questions I’m asking myself lately.
And so, back to this big, beautiful possible adventure presented to me last week. Which ultimately, I said no to. Not because I don’t deserve it, but because the timing in fact is not entirely right, for now.
The good news though? I have this on my radar now, and I can make some plans for the not-too-distant future. This feels good and right, even if it did take a sprinkling of interrupted sleep, excessive questioning and overthinking to get me to my decision.
I’ll get better at all of this, as I continue to pinpoint all the things I want for my life. For all the things I most definitely am worthy of wanting and, if the stars align, having.
Nine years ago today, I was in Boston running 26.2 miles with tens of thousands of other runners. I can hardly believe it’s been that long ago. It remains one of the most significant, special days of my life, for so many reasons, not the least of which being that crossing that finish line after enduring miles and miles of relentless, cold rain reminded me of what I am capable of when I bet on myself.
I’ve been thinking about this today, knowing the Boston Marathon was happening, and as I’ve been working on the essay you just read. Running remains an essential part of my life, even as I’m not training and racing to the extent I used to. The experiences I’ve had through running, to include my 2015 Boston Marathon experience, keep teaching me lessons that I’m now taking into my current focus on novel writing. I’m going to write more about the correlations between these two things in an upcoming newsletter, but it felt right to mention something today on Marathon Monday.
I’m currently tossing around a few big ideas and mapping out some exciting new projects. One of these is a dedicated series of conversations I am planning to share on the occasional Moving Through podcast in the coming weeks and months. The topic I’ll be exploring, with a number of different guests: how our ambition changes in midlife and the different career and/or life pivots we may be experiencing as we go through transitions like children leaving home, taking care of our aging parents, going through relationship changes both romantic and platonic, and more. Maybe it’s one of these things, or all of them. I’m looking forward to these conversations and also sharing them with you. If you have thoughts on what kinds of questions you’d most like answers to or insight on, please let me know!
Thank you for being here with me today. I’ll see you back here soon. Please let me know if you liked today’s post by tapping the heart and add a comment if anything in particular resonated with you. I always enjoy hearing from you! ❤️ Please feel free to share this post with friends or family you think would like it as well!
-Heather
Way to keep the suspense going Heather. I really want to know about that big adventure!!! But understand your mystery around it. Yes to the podcast episodes. I miss your voice and your smart episodes. And I love the theme of how ambitions change as we go through our lives... and midlives....and I can't believe you are 49... I feel like you are still 40 from when we met... although that makes me not in my 50s but I digress. Boston was a magical time and I am so glad I got to experience that as well! Looking forward to more words from you... always!
Check out your post: interview with Ann from Canada. Really resonated with me! I left you a message. 😉
Have a great day!
Maryellen