I care more about achieving outcomes than almost anything else in my life. When something I want feels out of reach, I don’t sit with the wanting – I shut it down. I spent weeks unable to list a baby carrier for sale. I told myself I was being indecisive. But I was just avoiding the grief of accepting I might not have another baby. Wanting is more comfortable for me to feel.
The want grows with you
I used to think the goal was to want less. But my desire just scales as I live – there will always be something to want. Maybe that’s not a problem to solve. Maybe wanting is just proof that you are living.
Wanting is energy looking for a direction
Shopping is how I cope. I asked myself why I keep hunting for things. I couldn’t find a clean answer. But somewhere in the middle of writing it out I landed here: the world is unpredictable. Nothing is guaranteed. Wanting something – anything – is just discomfort trying to resolve.
I’m not ready for the thing, so I chase the object
I wanted to make soup. Instead, I spent the day chasing a pen. I wasn’t distracted – I was avoiding. The object wasn’t the want. It was the detour I took because I wasn’t ready to start the real work yet. Avoidance always finds something beautiful to hide behind.
Satisfaction is a loop, not a destination
I rush toward satisfaction with everything I have. And then I get there – and the hunger dies. I used to think the goal was to finally feel satisfied. Now I think satisfaction was never meant to be permanent. It’s a reset, not an arrival. You have to want something new to keep creating.
We buy what we haven’t become yet
I wasn’t shopping. I was making promises to a future self I hadn’t yet shown up as. The object feels like a commitment. But objects can’t keep promises. Only you can.
Desire is telling you something – but not what you think
I kept chasing the next notebook, the better leather, the perfect tool. A pattern I find myself in constantly. That wanting isn’t about the object. It is restless energy with nowhere useful to go. When emotion has no direction, it shops.
Preparation is sometimes just dressed-up avoidance
I spent more time choosing the right notebook than writing in one. The emotion underneath was resistance – and I let it wear the costume of readiness. The container was never the problem. The fear of filling it was.