The Anatomy of Longing

I often sit with this wondering, this musing:

When in relationship - whether platonic or romantic - what do we want, and what do we need?

As a Shaman and Spiritual Healer, my work has always been to examine and heal the roots of our reactions - the unseen causes of our disconnection and pain. It is through this deep excavation that truth begins to surface; not the surface-level stories or mental justifications that so often rewrite our emotions into something more digestible, but the honest, raw essence of what we actually feel.

And what I have come to see, both in others and in myself, is that we often confuse our wants with our needs.

When our inner world is unexamined, we begin to project those unhealed longings outward - onto others, onto love, onto friendship, onto life itself. We start believing that what we want is what we need, and that someone else holds the key to our fulfillment.

From there, it’s a short fall into resentment and co-dependency.

We begin to expect others to fill the empty spaces within us - spaces that only we can fill.

It becomes a give-and-take dynamic that never feels balanced, never feels “enough.”

That need-based hunger is insatiable because it cannot be fed externally. And yet, people gorge themselves trying - devouring affection, attention, validation, connection - in an endless attempt to feel full.

The more they take in, the emptier they feel.

As a cellist, I have played at countless weddings - standing witness to love at its most radiant and exalted moments. The same music, the same words, the same promises, the same readings - all echo through cathedrals, gardens, and banquet halls. And yet, each time, I find myself quietly wondering: how much of this love is built on want, and how much on need?

From behind my instrument, I have seen eyes overflowing with tears of joy, hands trembling as vows are spoken, families united in shared belief that this - this union - is the beginning of everything. But I’ve also felt the unspoken energy that lingers beneath the beauty: the longing to be completed, the fear of being alone, the hope that this love will finally make them whole. It is a sacred moment, yes - but also a mirror of the human heart, revealing both its tenderness and its fear.

The difference between a want and a need is simple:

A need is something you must have to survive, to function, to live.

A want is something you desire - it may enrich you, inspire you, move you - but your soul does not depend upon it to exist.

Yet, our emotions are clever teachers. They reveal where we are still looking outward for what can only be found within. They show us where the child inside still aches to be held, to be seen, to be chosen. That ache often disguises itself as need - when really, it’s a call for self-healing.

When we turn our eyes and energies inward - to do the uncomfortable, sacred work of uncovering and understanding our pain - we begin to fill that void ourselves. The more we heal, the less we crave from others. We move from needing someone to wanting them, freely and consciously.

To want someone or something is beautiful. It’s human. It’s desire, creation, love.

But to need it for your self-worth, identity, or belonging - that is where we falter.

Our society and traditions have long confused this truth. We are taught that needing someone is romantic, that dependence is devotion, that “two halves make a whole.”

But in truth, two wholes make a love that lasts. Independence, self-awareness, and emotional wholeness are not selfish - they are sacred prerequisites for true intimacy

The soul’s deepest longing is not to be completed - but to be seen, understood, and met in its wholeness.

And that begins within.

When we can discern our wants from our needs, we stop projecting our emptiness onto others.

We stop blaming them for not being enough.

We start becoming enough for ourselves.

Then, and only then, do we enter relationship - any relationship - not as seekers, but as sharers.

Not to fill a void, but to expand a light already whole within us.

Because true connection, like true love, is not about needing each other to survive.

It’s about choosing each other - again and again - from a place of fullness, freedom, and truth.