The tag line of my business is, “For women wanting more.”
And while I come by those words honestly and stand by them wholeheartedly, I do feel they need a bit of explaining.
“Women wanting more” speaks to the non-apologetic, chronically aspirational, possibility chick that lives in me. She is the stand on her tippy-toes, get-up before the alarm goes off eagerly empowered part of me that yearns to clear her plate as well as her bucket list before all is said and done. And she is the full-throttled champion of the desire for more when it shows up in her clients, friends and family even when uttered as a faint whisper or throwaway comment. She can’t help herself. She gets lit up by the possibilities and wants to spread the fire.
That said, there is another, equally feisty but much more dour part of me that sometimes emerges to tamp down the vigor of the possibility chick. It stems from my deep ambivalence about wanting. As I’ve learned, many of us deem our wantings as selfish (God forbid!), impractical, or something to be ashamed of.
It has taken me almost a half century to legitimize my wantings—whether they are for a chocolate ice-cream cone or a six-figure income. Dawna Markova, in her book Wide Open, beautifully describes some of our deepest wantings such as the desire for meaning and connection, as “sacred hungers.”
These hungers are what women in my coaching circles come to legitimize and learn how to feed.
There is nothing wrong with wanting more except when we tell ourselves it is wrong. Wanting is fuel. Wanting more makes us feisty, fun to be around, and focused. I’m grateful for my hungers (the same way I’m grateful for my overflowing to-do list) as they speak to my aliveness. And more than anything, I want to live from a place of aliveness, wonder and gratitude.
Now, for the caveat: For any one of you reading this and thinking, “Gosh, Cheryl, I don’t really want any more. In fact, I’d like a heck of a lot less,” got it, thank you. Of course you do. I debated making my tagline “For women wanting more…or less” as I am 100% in the corner of those of us who are pleading for less. Less stuff, less incessantly squawking gadgets, less pressure to be something or someone we’re not, less self-criticism, and less listening to voices not our own. And ironically, in having less we hope for more. More peace, more balance, more time to ourselves. So I honor and welcome the parts of all of us that want and deserve less.
The best example of this comes from a client who said in our first meeting, “I love my family. I love my job. I hate my life.” This woman didn’t want more. She wanted less guilt, less busy, less stress. And she got it, and more.
So, dear ones, tell me:
- What’s your relationship like with wanting?
- What is it you want more of for yourself these days?
- What is it you want less of?
- What would it be like to know that even as you hold the space for more and less you can also bask in the grace of enough?
How about you?