‘What do you want'?’ The question that floors us all.
If you were a fly on the wall when I am preparing for friends to come and stay, you could be forgiven for thinking you’d stumbled upon a ‘Four in a Bed’ style reality show, in which I have picked up the excruciating social-climbing fever immortalised by Hyacinth Bouquet in the BBC sitcom, Keeping Up Appearances. I am showing my age with that reference, but if you don’t know it, the show’s title says it all.
In a furious bid for social credibility, I whirlwind through every corner of the house; dusting, polishing, planning elaborate Iranian lime-infused menus and faffing with flowers, kvetching over table settings and cushion arrangements until I am so wrung out that by the time my guests arrive my tank is empty. And then they dare to mess up my cushions or ask for cornflakes. ‘This is not a cornflake establishment’, says Hannahcinth. You can imagine what fun this is for everyone!
A neighbour, whom I adore, popped over the other day with an impromptu gift of doughnuts (my favourite), but before I could scramble to the door to divert us away from the knickers on the laundry airer, my husband had invited her in for a cuppa - right next to our smalls. As I hovered out of my body, looking down on my needlessly mortified self, I felt for her. What might she need to unclench and actually enjoy an unexpected sugary treat in the company of two delightful humans?
The answer, it turned out, was in some burnt toast. A breakfast lovingly provided by a very best friend who had put me up overnight on a subsequent trip to London. As I slathered butter on the incinerated bread, it dawned on me that in this carbon-sprinkled moment, without fanfare, napkins or even jam - I’d never felt more loved. And that felt the sort of good I hadn’t known I needed.
And so I lingered at the kitchen table, giving a cursory nod to the voice that told me I was outstaying my welcome but still not putting my shoes on. My friend tapped away at her emails, blissfully unaware of the epiphany happening in my heart - on the outside it was just (possibly the worst ever) breakfast, on the inside I’d won The Crystal Maze (the 90s rule, ok?). This is what I want. Pretension-free moments in the company of true friends – and perhaps my laundry. Not quite what I had imagined my heart’s desire to be - but nevertheless, it feels like a volcano in my chest. Through this lens, everything in my life shifts. Could dropping the mask be the access point to more Hannah fun, and a lot less Hyacinth?
This question ‘what do you want?’ – the simplest of asks, is so often the one that knocks my clients sideways. We all know so clearly what we don’t want. And since that’s where much of our attention goes, we’re floored to realise we have rarely given thought to what we’re craving, deep down in our hearts. ‘I don’t know’ is a common reply. And while that can feel awful - because we’re supposed to know all the damn time, I absolutely love that response. ‘I don’t know’ lives in the land of possibility and brand new experiences, where the tried and tested strategies that keep us stuck don’t quite seem to stick. This is the Wonderland of Lewis Carroll’s imagination – a strange, and sometimes terrifying realm where we have no idea what’s around any bend – but, let’s face it, a lot more exhilarating than one of Hyacinth’s ‘waterside suppers with riparian entertainment’. And, if you’re willing to not know and linger out there in the unknown - beyond what’s considered socially acceptable - you might just have a napkin-free adventure that you could never have planned.
Now, what shall I wear to answer the telephone?