The Cost of Our Wishes

The Nature of Our Wishes

Most of us have wishes in our lives—wishing for things, wishing for new relationships, wishing to get fitter or stronger, wishing for a job promotion, you name it. If you think you don’t wish for anything, think again. And if you do, examine your wishes. Once examined, you may ask yourself this question—what price am I willing to pay for my wishes?

For the last few weeks, I’ve been struggling to manage my time well. I was trying to balance what I want to do with what needs to be done. In the want-to-do list were things like training, writing, reading, and learning. And in the need-to-do bucket were things I had committed myself to—job interviews and assignments, maintenance chores of life, and so on. Maybe you have similar struggles with balancing the want-to-do and the need-to-do. It’s always a tricky act, no?

Tools vs Fundamental Questions

I tried to journal about it, using different tools—to-do lists, putting everything on my calendar, and apps like Linear. Everything worked in the short term, but nothing lasted. While these tools are great—and so is journaling for reflection and building awareness—I realised there might be something else that needs to come first. It was through journaling that I arrived at the realisation: what price am I willing to pay to reach the desired state?
The price I’m talking about (unless obvious) is not material. It’s about the sacrifices we’re willing to make. And more often than not, those sacrifices are uncomfortable. If it were easy, everyone would be getting what they wish for.

The Cost of Comfort

For me, the challenge was (and still is) making time for things that matter. In my case, it’s training, writing, reading, and the logistical bits. I don’t want to give up any of those. The only option is to make time for them. But how do you make more time? Time is finite. I prefer doing the important things—training, journaling, reading—in the morning. So I can either push everything else to the afternoon, or redefine what “morning” means—by starting earlier. And that, simple as it may sound, isn’t easy. Because it requires me to shift things the night before—cutting out stuff that eats up time. But after a long day of work, I like my evenings to be relaxed. And relaxation in today’s world—contrary to its true meaning—often looks like feeding your brain junk: doom-scrolling (though that’s not my biggest challenge), mindless stuff on social media, long dinners, and so on.
A part of me argued that all of it is important. That I can’t operate like a machine. And that’s true—but cutting those things doesn’t make me a machine. I can still relax. Ten minutes of meditation gives me more actual relaxation than all those things combined—which don't actually give relaxation but a kind of sedation. I did manage to win that argument with myself, at least for now.

The Hard Choices

The bottom line is: none of this is going to be easy. There will always be justifications and reasons—some bullshit, some that make complete sense. But at some point, we’re faced with the hard choice of deciding what we want more. Everyone’s answer is different. But for those who define their priorities through deliberate reflection, things can start to feel a little simpler. Simple doesn’t mean easy.

I’m still early in the process of giving up things I want less for the things I ultimately want more. But I understand that it’s a journey of continuous deviations, reflections, and course-corrections. The fact that I’m writing this post today gives me a small sense of joy—because I trained the prioritisation muscle today. And I hope to keep doing that, to get better at taking ownership of my time and my life—moving toward the things I care about, rather than finding reasons for staying stuck.

Is there something you wish for, but haven’t been able to get?
Next time, instead of asking “How can I get what I want?”, maybe try asking: “What price am I willing to pay to get what I want?”