The last couple of days have been chilly, rainy and dreary. They've been perfect days to wrap up in my favorite blanket, read, watch TV, drink hot raspberry tea and enjoy the rumble of the kittens as they claim my legs as their napping place. My next house, apartment or whatever living space I arrange is going to have a fireplace. I want it. I really want it.
I've recently gotten hooked on HBO's True Blood series, viewable online here. I've already read all the Charlaine Harris novels. They're vampire stories that hit the perfect note between fun and creepy. The differences between the series and the books are significant. I prefer the books, but the series stands well on its own. One of the characters in the book is a woman named Tara who is a successful businesswoman with a sad childhood and significant personal issues. Her presence in the series is much, much larger. She's not successful. She can't keep a job. Her friendship with Sookie (the main character) is her only real connection, and it's far from perfect. When her life hits a significant low point, a seems-to-be-caring character asks her what she wants in her life. She replies, "I've never really let myself want anything."
There's a part of me that always been afraid to really want something. The most insecure part of myself feels like I'll never get the things I really want, so I'd better settle for what I can get. I'll be a decent blogger instead of a good writer. I can put up with that ugly dark paneling in the dining room. I'll pass on getting those pants tailored and let them hang off my butt and thighs. Little things and big things, I've been afraid to want and try for more. There's also a part of me that feels greedy and selfish for wanting. That's just too sad, and I've had enough of that garbage. It's one thing to be realistic, quite another to be self-negating. Frankly, that pisses me off at myself. When I was finally able to put that thought into words without self-pity, screaming or hiding from the emotions it brought up from the sludge, I started thinking about the things I really want.
I'm basically pulling blanks, and it hit me that is probably why I've had such a hard time making plans or following through with the few plans I have made. If I don't know the "what" of the plan, I can't figure out the "how" much less the other details. A real plan is big step forward from my to do lists of chores and deadlines. I've done them before, and I can do them again, but plans about what is truly dear to my heart will be something new. I have the feeling it will be harder than I realize.