I’m a dreamer. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. I’m a dreamer.
As I daydream, I see things in my mind and I can feel the emotions as if they’re real and I’m living them in that very moment. Sometimes I dream about wacky things, like space travel or far off lands—things that are impossible. And sometimes, I dream about my life, the possibilities of how it could unfold.
I suppose some people might see me as a glass always full type of gal. They also might see me as idealistic and somewhat ungrounded. But they’d be wrong.
I used to dream so hard that it ended up hurting me. Because when I came out of the daze, and looked around at my truth, things weren’t exactly as I’d hoped.
Where was my Academy Award? Where were the clients booking my photo sessions out months in advance? Where was my 6-figure book deal? Slowly but surely, my dreams caused my reality to feel dull, monotonous, uneventful. I felt as though I was missing something. As though I was living my life without my purpose. I began to ignore the things I did have and focus solely on what I wanted but didn’t have yet.
And then I realised that wasn’t true dreaming. True dreaming uplifts and inspires. True dreaming sees potential in what already exists. True dreaming gives life. What I was doing instead, was killing myself from the core.
So I switched it up. It all started with loving where I was at, and with being grateful for what I already had. It also started with me not giving the dreams any responsibility to come true in order for me to be fulfilled. That’s key.
What I do now is say “wouldn’t it be nice?” Instead of looking at something I don’t have but want and feel like I’m missing out, I simply say “wouldn’t it be nice?” It gives a lighter vibe. No pressure, no heaviness. Just a casual entertaining of an idea. (P.S. Everything starts with an idea).
Here I am thinking: Wouldn’t it be nice to have a piece of land. Somewhere close to a town but in a world of its own. Wouldn’t it be nice to build on that land, a home that suits us and all our likes. Wouldn’t it be nice to look out on rolling hills with the sun shining down and be able to call out “I’m free” without anyone hearing me. Wouldn’t it be nice for my dog to run around on acres without a care in the world. Wouldn’t it be nice?
And then, I take a deep breath and turn back to the here and now, and I smile because I love my house and the people who live in it, and for now that (and the inkling of an idea) is all I need.
