Driven By Desire

March 18, 2014

There are moments when I look about this life now in wonder, imagining the thousands of little steps that it took to get from there to here. The thousands of moments of recalibration, realignment with my true desires – and not the stories that I told myself about what a good life looked like.

It is still surprising to me that I am at home in this life. It is so far from the briefcase and travel coffee mug and commute that I yearned for during my childhood. It is so far from the stability that I thought I needed in order to feel whole.

And, in some ways, it is more stable, because I know in my heart that I will never abandon myself.

That I will be able to figure it out – no matter what it is. That I have slowly built up the capacity to ask for help, to hold the unholdable, to laugh when I find myself in an uncomfortably familiar situation… again.

That, surrounded by my own business and my busy schedule, I am unfurling and becoming more patient.

That I am able to make a home here that is tender. Sweet. At my own pace.


In this moment, I am in Oakland. On a month-long adventure with my sweetheart that started as a deep desire.

I want to go to the West Coast. I want to drive from San Diego to Portland. I want to sit in the red woods. I want to drink really pretentious, amazing coffee. I want to see Big Sur. I want to celebrate with you, adventure with you, get away with you. 

I had very little understanding of how it was all going to work out. The logistics felt complicated and cumbersome. Expensive. And, if I had been who I used to be, I would have curled up in my bed at home and fed myself the old lines: You’re just not a very adventurous person. You’re a homebody. You live to nest. 

And, in part that is true, but, now, I love making my home on the precipice of something new, on the delicate edge of exhilaration and well-laid plans.

I require certain elements from myself to be at home in this movement – a pillow that doesn’t suck, a good up of coffee, the security blanket of a well-loved audio book on my phone – but I am blossoming in this life that I have created. Melting.

I am adventurous in my ability to dig deep into the dark matter of the old stories with a little flashlight and a prayer to determine what serves me and what I can let go of.

I am ruthless in my desire to feel really good. 

Where, once, there would have been unbridled skepticism and self-restraint, there is now curiosity and trust. I have re-educated myself in the school of heeding my own desires, needs – turning my compass inwards and crowd sourcing my parts when I need to make an important decision.

But, this life didn’t happen by mistake.

I wanted it.

I ached for it.

I cried tears into my pillow and beat my fists against the walls, crying on my bathroom floor for it.

I floundered for it.

At the core, this is a life driven by desire.

The desire for more. 

The desire for beauty.

The desire for a life that fit me – instead of a life that I was constantly trying to fit myself into.

Now, my desire is bigger than my fear – stronger.

But for many years, I stoked this fire. I taught myself to believe in the possibility that it could all work out, that it wasn’t always going to be as bad as it has been.

I refused to believe that I wasn’t worth it – even when I didn’t feel worth it.

I enlisted the support of as many people as I could find, rallying them from every corner of the internet.

I asked for help. Again and again. Even when it was uncomfortable.

That life you desire? It’s possible for you.

You do not have to prove yourself in order to deserve it.

Let your own love shine into those dark places – those places that feel hard for you to hold.

Operate out of love and respect. You deserve that from yourself.

If you do not know how, ask.

If you are overwhelmed, rest.

If you feel afraid, reach out.

If you are wondering if you’re doing it wrong, you’re not.

This is your journey, lovely. There is no destination. Cozy up. Take your time.

Instead of perfection, strive for allowing and granting permission to your messy vulnerability, humanity, and bright, sparkly light.



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