The human animal, like others, is adapted to a certain amount of struggle for life, and when by means of great wealth homo sapiens can gratify all his whims without effort, the mere absence of effort from his life removes an essential ingredient of happiness. The man who acquires easily things for which he feels only a very moderate desire concludes that the attainment of desire does not bring happiness. If he is of a philosophic disposition, he concludes that human life is essentially wretched, since the man who has all he wants is still unhappy. He forgets that to be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness. —Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness
Right now. Right this moment. What do you really want?
It sounds like a simple question, but it’s often a difficult one to answer. So instead of answering the question what do I want? we answer a different question, an easier one, such as
What do I need?
What do I want that I think I’m capable of getting?
What do I want that’s practical?
Some of those might seem like reasonable approaches, but they sidestep the actual question.
Identifying what you want isn’t an excursion into narcissism. The fact that so many of us are unable to answer this question with any degree of conviction doesn’t indicate we’re selfless beings who aren’t concerned with our own wants and desires. To the contrary, the less clarity we have about what we really want in life, the likelier we are to settle for—even grab at—whatever gratifies our immediate, short-term desires.
But it’s impossible to be truly satisfied if you don’t know what you really want.
In Thinking, Fast and Slow, Daniel Kahneman talks about this phenomenon of answering an easier question than the one that was asked.
If a satisfactory answer to a hard question is not found quickly, System 1 [the unconscious] will find a related question that is easier and will answer it. I call the operation of answering one question in place of another “substitution.”
Substituting an easier question for the question, what do I want? has consequences that can be deadly—or at least deadening. If you can’t allow yourself to identify what you want in life, you diminish your possibilities dramatically. You lose touch with yourself. Your view of the world becomes narrower. You settle for less. And maybe every once in a while you’re kind of unpleasant to be around.
Could you want something that’s impossible (or seems impossible) to have? Of course! Wanting isn’t synonymous with having. The act of wanting something won’t somehow magically bring it into being, no matter how hard you wish for it. On the other hand, if you don’t even know what you want, then you’ve pretty much guaranteed you won’t go after it. It’s unlikely that everything you want will be impossible for you to have. So why not be honest with yourself and acknowledge what you want, whether or not you think you can have it?
When you ask yourself this question, throw reasonableness out the window and try answering the hard question instead of an easier one. If you keep doing that, the hard question actually becomes easier because you don’t have to keep censoring yourself. If it turns out that you want impossible, improbable, barely imaginable, or highly unlikely things, congratulations! You’re already a winner.
30 Days
Here’s a simple exercise to help you uncover what you want:
For 30 days, preferably consecutive, write “What I really want” at the top of a blank page and then list 15-20 things that you want right then and there. They can be small, medium, or large; material or ephemeral; practical or pie-in-the sky. Don’t put an inordinate amount of thought into creating your list. Write down whatever occurs to you. Repetition is the key. Date your list. At the end of 30 days, you’re likely to have a pretty good idea of what’s important to you and what you want. If not, do the exercise for 30 more days.
Having declared an intention to maintain my equanimity—and why didn’t I think of this before now?—I have been looking for ways to keep reminding myself that this is my intention and to assist me when situations arise where I’m in danger of losing it.
The last time something pushed one of my buttons, I remembered how powerfully music can affect mood and state of mind. So I created an Equanimity Playlist: 25 songs that make me feel good or lower my blood pressure—or both. They range from the ridiculous (or corny) to the (at least in my opinion) sublime. It’s much more satisfying to turn the music on than it is to throw a stapler across the room (not that I actually do that with any regularity…anymore).
Here’s my list:
For a Dancer (Jackson Browne)
Coming into Los Angeles (Arlo Gurthrie)
I Heard a Rumor (Bananarama)
When You Awake (the Band/Acoustic version by Rick Dank)
Sail On (The Commodores)
Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby (Counting Crows)
Lookin’ Out My Back Door (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
Save Tonight (Eagle Eye Cherry)
Uncle John’s Band (Grateful Dead)
Rise Up (Indigo Girls)
Mexico (James Taylor)
Take a Minute (K’naan)
What It Is (Mark Knopfler)
Peace Like a River (Paul Simon)
Half a World Away (R.E.M.)
All This Time (Sting)
I Want You (Bob Dylan)
Piper at the Gates of Dawn (Van Morrison)
Who Says (John Mayer)
Birdhouse in Your Soul (They Might Be Giants)
A Thousand Beautiful Things (Annie Lennox)
High Tide or Low Tide (Bob Marley & The Wailers)
Human Nature (Michael Jackson)
Terra Nova (James Taylor)
Kathy’s Song (Eva Cassidy)
Many of these songs have been lifting me up for decades, from Michigan to California to New Mexico, and still do it for me today.
What songs would you put on your Equanimity Playlist?
