I grew up believing daydreaming was for the “flaky kids” who didn’t pay attention in class. I have vivid memories of staring off into space as the happenings of my mind held my interest more than almost everything I learned in school.
Being in school felt stifling and boring while being in my imagination felt freeing and fun. Because of this, I always struggled to stay in the box premade for us to grow in and, later, cram ourselves into.
So I suppose my fascination with daydreaming has pretty deep roots.
Over the course of my forty-one years, I’ve asked this unassuming question to almost everyone I’ve met from all kinds of countries, cities, and villages. No matter who I’ve asked, from the accomplished to the ordinary, “what do you daydream about?” is usually met with quiet embarrassment as it seems to trigger a feeling of ashamed nothingness.
It’s quite similar to the discomfort I often observe with the question of “what is your purpose?”. Both inquiries often require explaining and prodding to even get to a conversation.
To daydream is to let the mind wander until it reaches the beautiful, open fields of imagination. It is in the fields of imagination where color and spirit ride the waves generating thought and curiosity.
How much you find yourself daydreaming is a direct correlation to how much space you create in your life. (Yes, I did say how much you create as I believe it’s a prerequisite for being human, no matter how impossible it sometimes feels.)
Space is something I call “the power of the pause”. In the moments that my fiercely determined New York City woman wants to bull her way through getting things done, it is this simple mantra that reminds me power builds in the pause, not in the force. It’s about gaining perspective by literally pausing to reflect. It’s to ask myself if what I’m doing is serving a purpose and if how I’m doing it feels hard or in a state of flow?
By “the power of the pause” I mean an undefined passage of time to be present with yourself.
To just be.
To check in with what you feel and where you feel it.
To take a walk in nature where an infinite variety is waiting to flood your every sense if you so choose.
To not be needed or obliged to anything or anyone.
To ask for a time out.
To soak in a bath.
To lay on the floor and get lost in staring at the ceiling.
To take a journey through a lyrically rich song.
To intently listen for all the sounds around you.
To close your eyes and connect with your breath.
To notice things you’ve never noticed before.
To stretch.
To paint, write, dance, and play for the sheer pleasure of it.
To look up at the sky and notice how artfully shaped the clouds are.
To detox from digital stimulation, the news, and food you know isn’t good for you.
To become a sensational human being.
…
Space is for the soul what breathing is for the body. It’s about getting intimately acquainted with your inner world in a way that nourishes those faint whispers into clear articulations.
Space creates a sense of urgency to move dormant beliefs to aha “knowings” of exactly what you want. It will override your fear of leaping with a desire to see what’s on the other side.
Space is the connector of what isn’t to what can be. It draws pictures of possibility not to be calculated by a venn diagram or an XY formula.
Space is both the absence of everything and the holder of everything. It has the ability to bring together what is meant to be that was once broken, left, or unrealized.
Space is a free luxury. It doesn’t take more than removing time wasters and rearranging priorities to have it.
Space is the soil to the seed of purpose. It allows your imagination to pull from the gut what is meant for you to bring into existence.
Space and the freedom to be who I am, with my strengths orchestrating what seat I take at the proverbial table, is what I’ve slowly built my life around.
My daydreams have always had an eccentric flair, teetering a fine line between a delusional author and a visionary creator. I have chosen to believe in them as the latter.
I have a deluge of daydreams that have little by little turned into an adventurer’s bindle of stories but it is here that you may be wondering what is in sight for this spacey writer?
Allow me to indulge myself.
Building abundant resources for choosing every detail of the what, when, who, where, and how of all that is meant for me to create.
Writing books so full of energy they transfer inspiration, courage, and a sense of possibility for people all around the world to live their daydreams and bravest love stories.
Long weekends discovering the depths and beauty of Europe.
Taking big stages to host real conversations filled with questions and proposals I’ve been called to explore with my purpose.
Traveling to foreign lands I haven’t yet learned the streets of; gathering space to fill stories full of wit and wisdom.
Celebrating the wins and transforming the losses, of not only my own making but also those of my curated circle of renaissance women. We flow and rise in true friendship.
Dancing on a beach barefoot, with the moon winking across the water. The air filled with the enlivening smell of the Mediterranean Sea accompanied by the sound of music rippling out of a big boxed speaker. The concoction of sensations moves my soul as my body sways to the beat.
Encircled with conversations tantalizing my excitement to be in communion with like-hearted people.
The look of my strong-presenced lover catching me as his eyes throw promises to ravish me when the night is done. In that ravishing, we revel in what it means to make love with the soul, as much as the body, and we escape to places unknown — over and over again.
My days are spent creating, connecting, daydreaming, laughing, well-nourished, and shared in love with a man I never gave up believing in.
All of it is lived with fun and purpose at the hearth.
I’ve lived it in my mind one thousand times and it still inspires goosebumps to crawl up my spine and down my legs — confirming this will go from an imagined vision to an animated reality.
I know they may sound it, but my daydreams are not crazy babble inspired by some romance novel with a character named Fabio. My daydreams are the seat of what starts as a wild-what-if, that with time and practice, I assemble into beliefs.
Once they’re a part of my belief system, a touch of magic starts to present opportunities often delivered in serendipitous collisions with exactly what I need.
I didn’t come from a well-resourced family nor did I have the luck of things just landing in my lap. What I speak of comes from grit and hustle with an open mind and a curtsy to the power of something greater than me pulling it all together.
(I’d be a fool to claim full credit for all the mystifying experiences I’ve enjoyed. Equally a fool to claim fault for all the soul-breaking experiences I’ve endured.)
This collective crisis we are in has presented an opportunity to shut off the devices, tune out the noise, and take space to go in. To go in and find those latent daydreams begging to show you what you’re really made of.
And perhaps once you’ve spent some time in there you’ll find something winking at you in a dare to look closer. When you do, it just might answer the next question of “what is my purpose?”
I grew up believing daydreaming was for the “flaky kids” who didn’t pay attention in class. I have vivid memories of staring off into space as the happenings of my mind held my interest more than almost everything I learned in school.
Being in school felt stifling and boring while being in my imagination felt freeing and fun. Because of this, I always struggled to stay in the box premade for us to grow in and, later, cram ourselves into.
So I suppose my fascination with daydreaming has pretty deep roots.
Over the course of my forty-one years, I’ve asked this unassuming question to almost everyone I’ve met from all kinds of countries, cities, and villages. No matter who I’ve asked, from the accomplished to the ordinary, “what do you daydream about?” is usually met with quiet embarrassment as it seems to trigger a feeling of ashamed nothingness.
It’s quite similar to the discomfort I often observe with the question of “what is your purpose?”. Both inquiries often require explaining and prodding to even get to a conversation.
To daydream is to let the mind wander until it reaches the beautiful, open fields of imagination. It is in the fields of imagination where color and spirit ride the waves generating thought and curiosity.
How much you find yourself daydreaming is a direct correlation to how much space you create in your life. (Yes, I did say how much you create as I believe it’s a prerequisite for being human, no matter how impossible it sometimes feels.)
Space is something I call “the power of the pause”. In the moments that my fiercely determined New York City woman wants to bull her way through getting things done, it is this simple mantra that reminds me power builds in the pause, not in the force. It’s about gaining perspective by literally pausing to reflect. It’s to ask myself if what I’m doing is serving a purpose and if how I’m doing it feels hard or in a state of flow?
By “the power of the pause” I mean an undefined passage of time to be present with yourself.
To just be.
To check in with what you feel and where you feel it.
To take a walk in nature where an infinite variety is waiting to flood your every sense if you so choose.
To not be needed or obliged to anything or anyone.
To ask for a time out.
To soak in a bath.
To lay on the floor and get lost in staring at the ceiling.
To take a journey through a lyrically rich song.
To intently listen for all the sounds around you.
To close your eyes and connect with your breath.
To notice things you’ve never noticed before.
To stretch.
To paint, write, dance, and play for the sheer pleasure of it.
To look up at the sky and notice how artfully shaped the clouds are.
To detox from digital stimulation, the news, and food you know isn’t good for you.
To become a sensational human being.
…
Space is for the soul what breathing is for the body. It’s about getting intimately acquainted with your inner world in a way that nourishes those faint whispers into clear articulations.
Space creates a sense of urgency to move dormant beliefs to aha “knowings” of exactly what you want. It will override your fear of leaping with a desire to see what’s on the other side.
Space is the connector of what isn’t to what can be. It draws pictures of possibility not to be calculated by a venn diagram or an XY formula.
Space is both the absence of everything and the holder of everything. It has the ability to bring together what is meant to be that was once broken, left, or unrealized.
Space is a free luxury. It doesn’t take more than removing time wasters and rearranging priorities to have it.
Space is the soil to the seed of purpose. It allows your imagination to pull from the gut what is meant for you to bring into existence.
Space and the freedom to be who I am, with my strengths orchestrating what seat I take at the proverbial table, is what I’ve slowly built my life around.
My daydreams have always had an eccentric flair, teetering a fine line between a delusional author and a visionary creator. I have chosen to believe in them as the latter.
I have a deluge of daydreams that have little by little turned into an adventurer’s bindle of stories but it is here that you may be wondering what is in sight for this spacey writer?
Allow me to indulge myself.
Building abundant resources for choosing every detail of the what, when, who, where, and how of all that is meant for me to create.
Writing books so full of energy they transfer inspiration, courage, and a sense of possibility for people all around the world to live their daydreams and bravest love stories.
Long weekends discovering the depths and beauty of Europe.
Taking big stages to host real conversations filled with questions and proposals I’ve been called to explore with my purpose.
Traveling to foreign lands I haven’t yet learned the streets of; gathering space to fill stories full of wit and wisdom.
Celebrating the wins and transforming the losses, of not only my own making but also those of my curated circle of renaissance women. We flow and rise in true friendship.
Dancing on a beach barefoot, with the moon winking across the water. The air filled with the enlivening smell of the Mediterranean Sea accompanied by the sound of music rippling out of a big boxed speaker. The concoction of sensations moves my soul as my body sways to the beat.
Encircled with conversations tantalizing my excitement to be in communion with like-hearted people.
The look of my strong-presenced lover catching me as his eyes throw promises to ravish me when the night is done. In that ravishing, we revel in what it means to make love with the soul, as much as the body, and we escape to places unknown — over and over again.
My days are spent creating, connecting, daydreaming, laughing, well-nourished, and shared in love with a man I never gave up believing in.
All of it is lived with fun and purpose at the hearth.
I’ve lived it in my mind one thousand times and it still inspires goosebumps to crawl up my spine and down my legs — confirming this will go from an imagined vision to an animated reality.
I know they may sound it, but my daydreams are not crazy babble inspired by some romance novel with a character named Fabio. My daydreams are the seat of what starts as a wild-what-if, that with time and practice, I assemble into beliefs.
Once they’re a part of my belief system, a touch of magic starts to present opportunities often delivered in serendipitous collisions with exactly what I need.
I didn’t come from a well-resourced family nor did I have the luck of things just landing in my lap. What I speak of comes from grit and hustle with an open mind and a curtsy to the power of something greater than me pulling it all together.
(I’d be a fool to claim full credit for all the mystifying experiences I’ve enjoyed. Equally a fool to claim fault for all the soul-breaking experiences I’ve endured.)
This collective crisis we are in has presented an opportunity to shut off the devices, tune out the noise, and take space to go in. To go in and find those latent daydreams begging to show you what you’re really made of.
And perhaps once you’ve spent some time in there you’ll find something winking at you in a dare to look closer. When you do, it just might answer the next question of “what is my purpose?”
