What does your heart long for?

18 sep

Geschreven door Lennie Buddy

Today, we visit the Wishing Well. A quiet place in LCA World for hope, longing and reflection.

A place to pause for a moment, look a little deeper, and listen to what is living within us.

There are things we want that are easy to say out loud.

A different job.
A new home.
More rest.
A relationship.
A family.
A dream we want to build.

The Wishes We Hesitate to Name

And then there are the wishes we hesitate to name.

The ones that feel too big. Too vulnerable. Too unrealistic. Too selfish. Too late.

Sometimes we have learned to question our desires before we have even allowed ourselves to fully feel them.

Is this realistic?

Should I want this?

What will people think?

What if it never happens?

What if I admit that I want it and end up disappointed?

So we become careful with our wanting.

We minimize it. Rationalize it. Talk ourselves out of it.

Sometimes we stop wishing altogether.

But there is something meaningful about allowing ourselves to acknowledge what lives within us without immediately deciding what we should do with it.

That is what the Wishing Well invites us to do.

To pause.

To look beneath the noise, expectations and practicalities of everyday life.

And to ask:

What is living deep within me?

Sometimes a Wish Is Information

Not every desire needs to be pursued. Not every wish will become ours. Wanting something does not automatically mean that it is right for us.

But our desires can tell us something.

Sometimes a wish is information. It can reveal what we value. What we miss. What we are grieving. What we hope to experience. A part of ourselves that wants more room. A direction we continue to feel drawn towards.

And sometimes, when we look into the well, we find something that has been there for a long time.

A memory.
A prayer.
Someone we love.
A dream we have not let go of.
A small spark of hope that remained.

When Hope Is Quiet

We do not only visit the Wishing Well when life feels open and full of possibility.

We can find ourselves here in seasons of loss, grief, uncertainty and despair.

The well does not ask us to look away from what hurts. It does not silence pain with positivity or promise that everything will turn out the way we hope.

It invites us to look a little deeper.

What is still alive within me?
What still matters?
What is carrying me forward?

Hope does not require certainty. We do not need to know what the future will look like. We do not need a guarantee that what we long for will become ours.

Sometimes hope is quieter than that. It is discovering that, even here, something remains.

Something we love.
Something we value.
Something we believe in.
Something we are still willing to move towards.

And sometimes, that is enough to take the next step.

This is why there is a well here.

Wells ask us to look beneath the surface.
Beyond the first answer.
Beyond what sounds sensible.
Beyond what we think we should want.
Towards what has been living within us all along.

Looking Into the Well

There is nothing to solve here. You do not have to turn your longing into a goal. You do not have to justify it or decide what to do with it. For now, you are simply allowed to know.