If you could rub the lamp and have a genie offer you ANYTHING that you want, what would you ask for? A genie. A genie that gives you ANYTHING.  ANYTHING that you want.

My friend Mia loves watching shows about people with lots of money.  She watches Keeping Up With the Kardashians, and Platinum Weddings.  She likes the exposure to all the cool things that money can buy.

I don’t watch a lot of TV, but I’m fascinated by the idea that there are people on this planet with a shit load of money, people who aren’t the least bit shy about broadcasting their wealth and their spending habits to the world. But Mia notices something different.  She sees things she might like to ask the genie for. When he suddenly shows up knocking at her door.

Lately I’ve started noticing something interesting—and troubling—about myself.

I have very little imagination when it comes to defining what it is that I would like.  In particular, when it comes to the trappings of success, I all but draw a blank.

Most folks, I believe, would have no trouble coming up with pages of swag that they’d like to have land in their lap.  Helicopters and ridiculously expensive jewelry, designer wardrobes and Lamborghinis.   A business that makes 10 figures, a personal chef, houses all over the world.

Sitting here at my computer, these things sound awfully nice.

But here’s what throws me off in the desire department:  What do I stand to lose if I actually own my wants?

Walt will often tease me about my engagement ring, this big, beautiful diamond I swore I didn’t want.

Thankfully, he was smart enough to figure out that I was lying through my teeth.  Because I wanted nothing more than a physical symbol of my man’s love.  I wanted proof that he thought I was worth a serious chunk of change.

But, here’s why I lied.

If I’d told him what I yearned for, and he hadn’t followed through, I would have had to face the fact that he didn’t value me at all.  I would have lost the illusion of being in a relationship that would fulfill my needs.

I think that when we stop wanting things, we no longer risk disappointment.

I also think that when we have no desires–at least any we’d admit to–we get to hide behind a smoke screen. We can’t be accused of being demanding, selfish, or a burden. (Because, really, that’s what we fear we are.) Reveal those deepest-held, childlike yearnings, and we lose our camouflage.

Exposed, we open ourselves up to careful examination AND potential criticism.

Mind you, I know nothing about Kim or her sisters, but I think shows like Keeping up with the Kardashians reveal some really interesting things about the power of desire:

• Wanting the best that money can buy, expecting it to show up in our lives, celebrating it, seems to invite a whole bunch more of it.
• Being low maintenance does not inspire respect or interest; it bores the shit out of folks.
• We don’t get what we deserve, or what is fair; we get what we negotiate.
• If we accept crumbs, we get crumbs.
• If we shop for Manolo Blahniks, we get Manolo Blahniks.

So here’s why I’ve decided it’s time for me to get in touch with my inner Kardashian.  If you can conceive of it, you can achieve it.  Which makes the corollary true as well: if you have no imagination for the possibilities in this life, you wind up with bupkiss. And that’s a scary thought.

I’d love to have your take on this.  Tell me where I’m wrong.  Or why you know this is true.  Or tell me what you’re deathly afraid to want.  What would it mean about you?