I have a fortune (from a fortune cookie) in my wallet that I’ve carried around since 2007 when I was trying to make a big decision. The fortune says, “Decide what you want and go for it.”
First, I have to admit that I believe in fortune cookie theology. Firmly . . . ish. I believe that God often speaks to me through fortunes, and that I have received revelatory inspiration from those little white slips. (Can you hear Steve rolling his eyes?)
The “Decide what you want and go for it” fortune came to me at a time when I was trying to decide if I should quit my day job and pursue writing full time even though I had a whisper of an opportunity on my hands but not a full fledge sure thing.
That one sentence said it all. I had to decide what I wanted. I had to name my desire.
Desire is a funky thing. We often skirt around it in lieu of what we “should” do, what we “need” to do, what we “must” do . . . even. We are really good at finding reasons why what we really want isn’t actually what we really want and explaining away our heart’s beat.
Mainly, I think, because heartbrokenness is hard. And when we name something we really want and then it doesn’t happen, well that’s the best recipe I know for getting your heart broken.
So, we do this thing . . . this safe thing . . . we abdicate our desires. Synonyms for abdicate: relinquish, resign, step down from, hand over, give up, abandon.
I’ve done this before. I’ve decided to let someone else—someone who is much more productive or efficient or attractive or articulate or whatever—handle it. I’ve avoided the fray for fear of heartbrokenness. But you know, I never save myself any trouble by abdicating my desires. I never find that approach more fulfilling.
I mentioned Stephen King in my last post and how inspiring that story has been to me. I love it because, honestly—if you read the whole story—you would see that he had a hundred reasons why that particular time in his life was not the right time to write a novel. Anyone would have agreed. There were so many reasons why he should have waited. But SK had decided what he wanted, and he was going for it.
Even without a swanky writing room and a beautiful new macbook pro, you ask? Yep. Even without the glitz.
He refused to abdicate his dreams. He refused to let inertia decide. He refused to live a life he didn’t actually want.
How brazen.
It’s very brazen to just go for it. To name a desire and take a step toward it.
But don’t confuse brazen with sexy or glamorous. Because it’s not. Brazen is barefaced audacity, which is rarely ever easy breezy beautiful.
More often than not brazen looks like something I saw this morning: a few hotter-than-hot-pink bougainvillea petals making their way down the street in the muddy gutter water.
I believe in you.
