Why is it that when we become adults we stop dreaming about the things we want in life? I mean, we dream in our sleep, but why do our waking selves decide that dreaming is a foolish thing to do?
As kids we definitively say things like, “When I grow up I’m going to be a ____,” or, “I’m going to do ____.” Somewhere along the line we get the notion that dreaming like that is for kids only – that it’s a waste of time and that we should focus on reality. And we stop talking so definitively in lieu of more wishy-washy statements so we don’t look foolish when something doesn’t come to pass.
For several years now, I’ve written down and regularly meditated on the things I want in my life. But I’ve always held back a bit and tried to keep the list “realistic”, like dreaming too big is too greedy or outlandish.
Because of my involvement in AdvoCare, I’ve recently been tasked with dreaming as big as I possibly can. So I’ve been adding to that list – writing down the things, big and small, that seem like grand notions and believing them to be attainable and in my imminent future.
Some of the things on my list would seem silly or inconsequential to others, but it’s my list, not theirs. That being said, I don’t really share my list very much. It just seems to personal (and some of it is definitely too personal for this space). But I can’t help but think that sharing it is a good thing. It adds a certain level of accountability and viability overall. So, here are a few of the things I’ve added lately to my list of wants that I am willing to share:
- Financial freedom
- To work from home in my yoga pants, braless (seriously, I hate wearing a bra)
- To wake up whenever I want, everyday (ever notice how 7.5 hours of sleep that ends with an alarm isn’t as restful as 7.5 hours of sleep that ends because your body is ready?)
- A vacation home near my favorite hot springs
- A healthy, fit, pain-free body
All of that is coming my way, peeps. It is.
Now, go make your own list! Dream big. Put anything you want on there. And then set aside that jerky inner voice telling you you’re crazy. Because you’re not.