Don’t stop dreaming, because there is nothing wrong in wanting more. (unknown)
Over the years, my husband and I have amused ourselves (evidently it’s amusing somehow, since we keep repeating it) by engaging in a kerfuffle regarding his assertion that I always want “more.” Usually this is in response to my sprightly remarks about when we’re gonna get on the road again, since indeed I do seem to have an insatiable wanderlust.
Now although I will have to admit to being a little slow off the mark sometimes, it does not escape my attention that this ploy on his part is a clever bit of gamesmanship, since I am immediately chagrined and taken aback at being confronted with my greedy self, the (oh, no!) part of me that is never satisfied, always nagging, wanting more, more, MORE. And so, I shut up, or whine and feel sorry for my poor self, who, after all, had fantasies of traveling all the time in her retirement, and I slink into either surly guilt or whiny martyrdom, and keep my mouth shut, even though I do indeed still want more.
But, in defense of MORE, and at the risk of indulging my own ugly self-righteousness, I have to say that my husband is right. I do want more — more kindness, caring, compassion, justice . . . more common sense and reason — a different world! Yes! But since I can hear myself getting a tad out of control, I will reluctantly crawl down offa my soapbox, and try to find some balanced perspective here . . .
A greater or additional amount or degree of, “more” . . . Such a simple word to be the focus of so much nonsense on the parts of me ‘n my husband and maybe the parts of lotsa folks right now, a world of people still reeling as we face an unprecedented time of global pandemic and fear, of political strife and transformation, and a struggle for justice as each of us sees it. A hard place to be.
I want more. You want less. I want less. You want more. The difficult word seems not to be “more” or “less,” but rather “want,” a mighty fine word as far as I’m concerned, meaning good things like desiring, craving, yearning, but I reckon in the end, it’s what we actually DO with that WANT, that wish, that dream . . .
I hope my oh-so-astute readers will detect not only my tongue-in-cheek, but also my deep wish or ‘want’ for us to recognize that indeed in the end we all want the same things — to survive, to be warm and fed and safe — to be “seen,” understood, loved, affirmed. It might sound trite, but I really like that phrase I hear repetitively on commercials now: we’re all in this together.
