Uke showed me the “Mondo Beyondo” list on Superhero Journal and ever since I’ve kept a mondo beyondo list of my own running on Google Docs. SARK has a similar concept with her “I want” lists: writing down the “craziest,” most “over-the-top,” “unrealistic” hopes, wishes and goals you would ordinarily keep stuffed away in that box in your head marked “impossible.”
I surrounded each of those words with quote marks because even easily attained experiences seem impossible until you take them out of your head and expose them to the open air. I left New York last year wanting to go to Europe, but it wasn’t until I said it out loud to several friends in a row that I stopped thinking about it as something that could someday happen, and began thinking about it as something I may as well make happen right now. I collect stories from friends and family about the coincidental and unexpected openings we discover into our dreams soon after saying the words, “I want to…”
My Mondo Want list this winter was admirably ambitious but also vague, ala “I’d like to fly to the moon.” I found it becoming more specific tonight, sitting in a room crowded with furniture my dad brought over from my brother’s apartment, before my dad started his cross-country drive back to Portland, and Ian prepares to move as well. I’m not sure where I or anyone else in my life is going or, far more importantly, belongs, but I do know what I want. I know my wishes have even less bearing on other people’s lives than they do on my own, but let these thoughts float into the night sky, and inspire your own Mondo Wants.
I want my mom to have her very own walls to paint, a dining room to host dinners in, friends and more loved ones around her. I want my brother to find other artistic buddies, and a job that leaves him with enough energy to finish this bitchin’ zombie comic we’ve started. I want Uke to make a three-song CD on her ukulele, my cousin to find exactly the part-time nursing job she’s looked for for months, the friend I affectionately call Mr. Rogers to move in with the love of his life.
My Mondo Wants are equally specific. I want a home to put my wooden dresser in, where it can sit for several years in a row. I want a sensuous satin purple and pink patchwork quilt my rabbit hasn’t eaten holes through. I want a furry friend for my rabbit. I want a house with lots of natural light and a view of the sea. I want to earn half my living drawing round-faced children, and the other half writing these blogs, and the third half writing the stories I haven’t yet learned how to write yet. I want to read every book I’ve recently purchased, instead of wasting hours online. I want both exotically flavored dark chocolate and homely milk chocolate bars pouring from the cupboards, endlessly flowing vodka and red wine, and best of all, friends to laugh with while consuming all that sin (and when not). I admit I do want the money to buy Threadless tees, Blik wall decals, and arty Zazzle creations, but I also want to design all three and know other people who do the same. I want to be paid to write about traveling experiences, so that I can leave the dresser and rabbit and view of the sea behind and return, new again.
I want a tiny little fuel-efficient car to drive my rabbit around in, and the skill to drive it without running into things, as is my wont.
I want to inspire people.
I want for everyone: Love to be manifested, inspiration to survive the act of creation, pets to be petted, Kraft mac ‘n cheese forsaken for homemade, backs to be patted, cheeks kissed, nights passed in deep and restful slumber, mornings met with eager stretches, and friends’ idiosyncrasies met with appreciative smiles. I want love for all of us, and on Tax Day, no less.