Martha's big adventure –– I want what I want - Martha Carr

I want what I want when I want it, which is always now.

Whatever moment this is, right now, while you're reading this is when I want it. That's only if I haven't gotten it yet. If I have, chances are I've already moved on to something else that I now want, just as much and in the same speedy fashion.

The list has included getting published, check, and then getting published again, check, check and lately getting paid a lot more money from writing thrillers. I'm still working on that last line item, but things are looking good to even achieve that one, too.

You guys could be helping me out a little more with that last one, you know.

That's the thing about one of these lists. No matter who we are, we often think everyone else should care just as much as we do that we get what we want, and should be willing to help. We'll even help someone else with their list, if we sense that they'd be a perfect sidekick for something on our list. Things can quickly get a little complicated.

Of course, weight loss has made several reappearances as well as finding someone to date or buying a house or a car or even hoping my son, Louie, does what I want, and that it all turns out well.

It doesn't always matter that he's grown and 24 years old with a life of his own, and now has his own well-developed list. Frankly, a really good list seems to be the one thing we can be sure our children will inherit from us.

Offspring get stuck on our eternal list of wants as well, disguised as good parenting. It's really more about how uncomfortable I am because of worry or even embarrassment most of the time. However, Facebook can give grown children a place to vent with a virtual high-five over how evil, old or out of it parents are these days.

The list is a bottomless pit of desires that I believe will make my life just that much better. I'm not sure that has ever turned out to be true. There were the gym memberships that I was sure would help me get in shape that I never used.

There was one gym that I went to fairly regularly across the parking lot from the Arby's we all stopped by after our workouts.

There's also been a few fashion faux pas like the platform shoes that got me up to a grand six feet, towering over the boys, or the perm that left me with a giant afro that looked like something Cher would envy and seemed to startle people the first time they got a good look.

Nothing could have stopped me from trying them.

The good news is I now have a little perspective about my must-haves mixed with a little bit more humor. First of all, I'm finally getting comfortable with just being human and all the foibles that come along with that label. Second, I get that having desires is even a necessity to get us up in the morning and heading out the door. The third one is where the catch is and can often make the difference between getting to the goal, being happy along the way and not causing harm to others while I'm pursuing the shiny new thing.

The last thing to keep in mind is that I'm not in charge of outcomes. There's a very good reason for that one. What I think I have to have and all the descriptions that go with that is often not really what I wanted in the first place. Sounds a little crazy, but my desires are sometimes built more on fear than some kind of peaceful or loving feeling.

I'm more afraid of what I won't get, or how I look or what it all means, and sometimes, that can get me to grab at the first thing I see and hold on for all I'm worth. I'll make it what I wanted, just you wait.

But if I can use a good dose of faith in there somewhere, get out of the way and just keep doing the footwork with as much of an open mind as I can create in any given day, often, what comes together is bigger and better and very different from what I imagined, even for Louie. More adventures to follow.

Tweet me @MarthaRandolph with your long list. www.MarthaCarr.com.

Martha's column is distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons Inc., newspaper syndicate. E-mail her at Martha@caglecartoons.com.