The Secret Life of a Serial Dreamer

Have you ever been so deeply inspired by something that you’ve done absolutely nothing? Have you dreamed so vividly that you forgot to wake up?

I know that sounds crazy, but I invite you to take a look into the inner workings of my over-crowded mind.

Cinderella taught us that “A dream is a wish your heart makes.” Well let me tell you; my heart is easily influenced. Ever since I can remember I have been inspired by almost anything or anyone who seemed to be accomplished. I have dreamed the most ridiculous dreams and made plans that, looking back, I never intended to complete. I remember for a few months I wanted to be a sportscaster. That’s not a joke. Me. A sportscaster. I wanted to be a psychiatrist for a few days until I realized there would be medical school involved, so I settled for a psychologist. I was so passionate about working with kids who had learning disabilities, focusing on Autism Spectrum Disorders. I fell in love with charity after charity and a few times almost dropped everything to move to NYC. The list is endless.

You may be thinking… How does one become a serial dreamer? As Lady Gaga so graciously puts it, I guess “I was born that way”. My family is the worst – the best of the worst – but the worst, nonetheless. We will spend two hours watching a documentary about the “World Cupstack Championships” and give or take six days, $50, and we are resident experts. My fondest memories of my childhood are the times my brothers and I would catch a glimpse of something inspirational and spend weeks planning our futures around that one idea.

When I was 11 my family moved to Harrisburg, OR – farm country for the few of you who don’t know – and we began to build our house. My older brother and I would spend hours at the job site just watching the workers turn what, at first was a pile of dirt, into the house we live in now. At the time our back yard was overrun with blackberry bushes, a travesty to some, but an opportunity for my brother and I. We spent countless days and nights planning how we were going to turn that enormous blackberry “field” into a clubhouse. We picked out furniture and drew blueprints (obviously deciding that we were both going to be architects in the future). We even fought over which of each other’s friends would be allowed to come into this sacred place. The clubhouse never happened. Apparently, even though it looked hollow, blackberry bushes are dense and deadly. But the dream was nothing less than real.

Now, if you know me you probably wouldn’t guess that I am such a dreamer. Because I haven’t done any of these things. I haven’t even pursued most of them. Now I wish this was going to be one of those “Self-diagnosis” blogs or “7 Easy Steps To Accomplish Your Wildest Dreams”. But it’s not. To be honest I have had this blog for exactly one year. And haven’t finished one post. UNTIL NOW!

Don’t worry, I think I have a point to this whole thing. Sometimes we get discouraged because our dreams haven’t come to pass, or we lack the passion to carry them out. But, I believe two things:

1. I was not created to be a sportscaster. At all. But there was a small point in time where I thoroughly enjoyed that dream and because of that dream I experienced things that I wouldn’t have other wise experienced. Sometimes we have ambitions that are meant to become a career or a lifestyle; and sometimes we dream to get us through the day.

2. If we let our future limit our dreams then our dreams lose the power to expand our future. You may only have one future. But that doesn’t mean you can’t live a thousand dreams.

Dream on.