CFC Blog #220: Wanting

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.” - Tennessee Williams 

The acronym FOMO (F.ear O.f M.issing. O.ut) started it all. Then came its counter state, JOMO (J.oy O.f M.issing. O.ut). Of course, these two states have always existed, but perhaps before the spread of these terms through social media (the very format that can easily create the first one) were never able to be expressed so succinctly before, nor were felt by so many. I can easily tag a number or moments in life when I’ve felt each one. What I find really fascinating about the human experience is times when you can have two feelings, or feel two emotions at the exact same time.  

This piece captivates me, even after multiple reads. Christina’s ability to separate from space-time to consider all the particular wants she feels in such fine detail is remarkable. What is most notable is how she expresses when her feelings of Want arise, their opposite often also comes up almost immediately after. Sometimes all that’s necessary is a clearer thought of what we think we want to realize it isn’t what we really need. There’s something else. And something else. Of course, there’s also the added complexity of understanding if something is a Want or a Need, but I believe most humans have become pretty clear on that difference in these past number of months in a global pandemic.

I’m reminded of the Buddha’s Flower Sermon, in which he passes on all of the aspects of his teachings that cannot be spoken with a simple action — picking and observing a lotus flower. I think that maybe by taking time to observe the origins of our Wants, or moments of FOMO, we can then truly discover our Needs.

- Corey

Wanting 

This feeling of wanting is curious.  

I am sitting outside on my sister’s patio table, gazing out at grey clouds intertwined with mountains and the setting sun above the Hudson River. I’m immersed in the sounds of crickets and the chirps of birds at dusk and a few rumbles of thunder on the horizon. The air is cool, laden with water droplets both rising from the earth and ready to fall. It is beautiful. 

This is where I have wanted to be all day, and for many days. This is also where I want to leave. 

I am already wanting a hot bath inside, the first bath I’ll have taken in years. I am wanting my family, the familiar walk at Rockwood that I at times resisted after a long day of work. I want to curl into the couch with my dogs and my mom our show on the small, dented-from-moving TV in our living room. I am wanting to overcome the frustration I’ve felt and the fuse I’ve lost when the Roku doesn’t work at the touch of a finger on my iPhone.

I am wanting to be back in the city. Surrounded by my friends and possibility and creativity and energy. I am wanting to not miss the opportunity of discounted leases and one of the few times the expression “due to COVID” is in my favor. 

I am wanting to be free from my anxiety. To stop convincing myself I am sick even when I feel healthy. To stop feeling like I must be doing the things I am not doing. To stop wanting the days to come and stop wanting the days to not go by. 

Sometimes I look at all of this wanting and I think, really, I have no idea what I want at all. Or maybe I have no idea why I want at all. 

I look around at these trees and this sky and these birds and I envy nature and its lack of want. 

I admire the ways the birds dive through the air and never once consider how beautiful they look doing so. I admire the way the trees lose their leaves and do not wish them back. The way they don’t rush to heal if a storm steals the limbs they’ve spent years growing. I admire the way the clouds transform from white to grey to pink to orange and are still always in perfect balance with the earth.

I wonder where my wantings come from. If they are my own. Which are my own. 

I wonder where I’d be if I didn’t want at all.