As far back as I can remember, I’ve filled my hours with daydreaming. It’s one of the reasons nightdreaming has never thrilled me much. Both kinds of dreaming require a suspension of reality, daydreaming just still lets you sit behind the wheel. It’s lucid by default.
As a kid, I spent my afternoons doing the typical kind – interrogating my molecules in hopes that I could defy gravity or teleport. In my teens, my daydreams were dedicated to my crushes. Entire lifespans shared with a stranger before the bell rang. My twenties made way for aspirations of fame. I envisioned performing at Madison Square Garden, I craved legacy. Phrases like manifest your reality gave me an excuse to inject capitalism into my daydreams, to make them action-oriented. This was a stark shift – as a kid I wanted to teleport really badly…but I never felt like I was entitled to it.
I don’t know if I daydream anymore these days. I’ve been grounded into the reality of short-term to-do’s and long-term goals. Many would argue that this is a good thing. Pragmatism is seldom an insult. And meanwhile – I can’t teleport but I do jet around the world. I didn’t end up with any of my high school crushes, but I’m madly in love with my wife. I’m not famous, but I’m surrounded by more good friends than I can keep up with. I’ve been told – and I tell myself – that I’m living the dream.
But what does it mean to actually live a dream? Why do I still wake up with anxiety? Why do I stress the fuck out? The key might be in what I no longer genuinely daydream.
The magic in daydreaming, and why it’s distinct from “goal-setting” is that daydreaming allows space for fantasy. Not the “one day this could actually happen” kind of fantasy, but real-ass “this definitely could never come true” fantasy. It is a recess of the mind, one where calculations don’t calculate and conclusions don’t conclude. It’s a scrimmage in what-ifs, with no championship at the end. It’s an exercise that I’m recognizing that I’m out of shape for, but that may be exactly what I need right now amidst my overdose of reality. It’s a welcome escape, it’s a return to who I am.