How Often Do You Want Something, But You Don’t Make it Clear?

I was at the beach yesterday, sitting at a table with four chairs. It was a stunning day, and yet the beach was surprisingly quiet.

One of the chairs was impeding my direct view of the ocean.

The ocean is enormous, so it’s not like I couldn’t see it, but the chair was impeding a clear view.

As I thought of moving the chair, I had a split second where my mind whispered,

“No, it’s ok; I don’t want to disturb anything.”

There was no one around; a chair is an inanimate object with no feelings, so what exactly would I be disturbing?

Nothing.

Except for the small part of me, that whispered I’m not worthy of making myself as comfortable as possible and creating an ideal setting.

I was worthy of an almost ideal situation. I was worthy of settling for breadcrumbs when the entire ocean was in reach.

I asked myself one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves, and if we want to cultivate extraordinary lives, it’s a question we need to get acclimated to asking,

“What do I need right now?”

I got up, moved the chair, sat back down, and gazed at my unimpeded view.