Part One
I once was asked by a friend to write about wants. Ten pages. Single space. No other prompts. I was both delighted and daunted by such an open opportunity. My natural contrariness also defied this request for a long time, eager to hold onto the limbo as a form of power. I reveled in what I had. I also wanted more.
I’m surprised that, while some doubt has risen over time, I haven’t yet given up the urge to close the door on this challenge, with the hopes I release this in its entirety once and for all. It is, of course, only a small portion of the problem I face. By ‘problem’ I mean the impact the prompter continues to have on me, even today, including but not limited to this unfinished request. I’ve hurled several attempts into different documents like so many gobs of jello slung at a tree in hopes something will stick. I tried climbing this mountain from various angles. A piece of pure academia, a beast of studious claims backed up by well-researched evidence. The List, a most spiteful attempt to subvert the requirements put upon me, thinking myself oh-so-clever for thinking outside the box. A personalized letter, the piece that got the closest to completion, perhaps because it was the closest to being honest.
My efforts only shifted recently, struggling with feelings this summer that encouraged a decision to renounce all contact with them once I delivered this. But even now that resolution has long since crumbled once I reflected deep enough to see it for the repression that it was. My current situation only highlights that further. In truth I find repression a base act of fear, but I’m also seeing it as a price. A costly one. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I missed my friend’s company, although I’m no longer the same fool I used to be and am plenty aware of the double edged sword it is to acknowledge such truths. Still, I’m learning how to be honest with myself in all its kaleidoscope positions. I simply don’t think renunciation as it’s imagined will magically make the world all sunshine and rainbows. Yet, and perhaps I play my hand too early, but I am starting to think I’m addicted to solving puzzles. And the current challenge is Mt. Everest.
Like I said, there were many iterations of this paper, most bearing no resemblance to one another. I will say in my defense I did try a more formal format at least a few times. Those attempts were purely professional in form, devoid of personalization akin to some old sassy essays of mine that have been lost to the internet by now. Problems quickly arose when the conversation began to yearn for examples, and for the sake of professionalism should I ignore my own experiences to overanalyze someone else’s? Perish the thought! I think that was mostly a younger, more eager-to-please version of myself. She certainly had higher hopes of creating something that would take little in the way of edits and polish to publish, envisioning the rest of the world would soon enjoy her brilliance. Those angles felt so cold for such a taunting concept anyway. Even at a first glance the term ‘want’ evokes for me connotations that are immediately instinctive, impulsive, some innate experience of living, of surviving that goes well beyond the cold scientific lens of keeping the universe at an arm’s length.
On the other side of the formatting coin was one of my favorites: the list. Thinking myself the snarkiest little gremlin I tried creating a ten page list of personal wants. I believed I was oh-so-clever in dodging and subverting the responsibility of opportunity and challenge provided me. I would get about a third of the way through jotting down things. Then I would run out of things to list, even things I wanted to not have, or not do, or not be. Eventually I began to feel like a cringey and obsessive sap writing with no nuance nor the capability to put any worthy effort into completing this without regret. I doubt I won’t have some reservations about this version by the time I finish it, either. But those doubts will be nowhere near the deflation I’d imagine wrapping myself in had I been stupid enough to finish any of those previous renditions years ago.
Those two extremes have thankfully been tempered by time. But they also reveal how naive I’ve been about all this. The goal was to write about wants, a fruitful topic to be sure. Yet here I was, stalling, themeless, pointless. Having been set up with a project wasn’t a strong enough reason to create a masterpiece. I needed to figure out why I wanted to make this. Even now I fell the conflict of keep in contact with my inspiration, even after all that’s taken place since that request. Somehow a growing sense of uncertainty and bittersweetness are better drivers than receiving approval. Funny how that works out.
What kills me is that there were years when instead of giving this topic my attention I gave it my active inattention. I tried to pretend I was completely over our affiliation and that included this challenge. I tried to forget their name. But I misspeak. Rather, what bothers me is that after shoving this project away for so long I’m still compelled by some weird complex set of circumstances and wants to complete this assignment, to have it be read, reacted to, to have that reality instead of fantasy. So here we go, and here’s to hoping for my eventual success.
Let’s get some basic stuff out of the way. We can’t have a reasonable discussion about wants without some pretense of using the same understanding, can we? While little to none of this will be actively researched, as this would defy my interests in laziness, I do have some preexisting knowledge related to the topic and until further notice will consider that sufficient for my needs. This includes refusing to look up a specific definition for wants. The ‘definition’ was another false start, and it clearly is not the version I will set forth, which I think says all it needs to. Although, I suppose it was good for boosting my current perspective. But I digress.
I posit that, particularly in English, that the current day usage of the term ‘want’ retains a strong relationship with both ‘need’ and ‘lack.’ There’s plenty of proof in Shakespeare’s works alone of the word being used synonymously for ‘lack,’ not to mention the situations in which the former directly translates to the latter. We even use it conversationally still as an equivalent for ‘lack’ in phrases like, “for want of a better word.” Although there can be the interpretation that the speaker of said phrase is merely eager to use another word, the point is that they wouldn’t be eager for another word if it was already available. It’s missing. Lacking. It’s not there, and maybe should be, maybe even needs to be?
As noted above, this is part one. I will have more soon, depending on how scheduling works out. I’m also fighting the website, figuring out this technology, made all the harder by their tutorial videos being out of date. Hopefully this page is even accessible.
The Quiet Mirror 
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