Wanting, Waiting, and Walking

It's been a week (or so) of all three; wanting, waiting, and walking.

Wanting: not existing or supplied; absent.

There are many things that I have been wanting for in the past week. But selfishly. Because the truth is, I want for nothing. And not everyone can say that. So, selfishly, I'll admit, I've been wanting this week. Wanting for things that might be unrealistic. Wanting for a version of myself that might not be authentic. Wanting for things that are within my reach but wanting them handed directly to me. Wanting, essentially, for things that aren't worth anything. Wanting for nothing, but in a different sense this time. And I don't want to want for the wrong things anymore.

"What do you want? Do you want safety? Security? Guarantees? Do you want to stand with the majority? Climb ladders of prosperity? Make affirmation or validation your priority? Or be about self-improvement primarily? About stability and popularity and familiarity? What do you want? Because here’s the thing: You have to know what you want. Because this is kind of everything. You are what you want. You are what your heart beats for, speaks for, reaches for. You are what your hearts loves, desires, admires, acquires. You are what your heart wants."

Waiting: used to indicate that one is eagerly impatient to do something or for something to happen.

I'm not very good at waiting. Not very good at all. I always feel the weight of waiting too heavily. I get too impatient too quickly. I shouldn't wait like I do. Not when there is so much joy to be found in the rest. If I choose to wait, I want to wait peacefully. And I don't want to wait for the wrong things anymore.

"I don't understand Your ways. Oh, but I will You my song. Give You all of my praise."

I saw this Youtube clip on the very same day that I found this image on Pinterest and I could not even. I want to participate in hygge. From now on. For always.

Walking: move at a regular and fairly slow pace by lifting and setting down each foot in turn, never having both feet off the ground at once.

I realized this week that I am not a walker. It's not that I can't physically walk, because I can. But emotionally? I crawl. Or I'm carried. But for the first time this week, I needed to walk on my own. And I did. Slowly. Trust me, it wasn't pretty. It was a much less adorable version of Bambi. MUCH less adorable. And I didn't get very far; just a few steps. But I took those steps on my own. I fell a few times, but I got back up. If I am able to walk on my own, then one day I will be able to carry someone else and eventually set them on their own two feet. And I don't want to not walk for the wrong reasons anymore.