I am a world-class daydreamer. I have incredibly vivid and visually rich full-color daydreams that are like Technicolor movies in sublime detail with pithy, witty, but believable dialogue and perfect pacing. I am not without my abilities in daily life, but my daydreaming is my greatest talent. A talent I have never been able to turn into art no matter how hard I try.
Yesterday I went for a walk to try and reset my brain and to get some inspiration to write a blog post. I succeeded in getting a little placeholder post together and working out my anxiety enough to enjoy the rest of my day. It’s almost like walking—or any other exercise movement is good for me and I should do it more often. Much more often. There are a lot of things I should do more often. So many things.
Almost every bestselling author you can think of makes a daily walk part of their writing practice. Many other artists, scientists, and thinkers go on walks for inspiration as well. Nikola Tesla famously went on a walk in the park in Budapest and came up with the inspiration for the alternating current that is currently powering my computer. When I go for walks, I am often struck by inspiration—anything to mitigate the sheer boredom of exercise movement. I know that I’m supposed to call exercise ‘movement’, but old habits die hard. Old habits like not exercising moving regularly. I’ll stop belaboring the point. I just really don’t like movement.
Despite my true distast for movement, I do find walks inspirational. I get so many ideas. In the moment. Exactly in the moment and in no other place in spacetime. I cannot stop to jot the ideas down in a Moleskine notebook or grab my phone to type out a quick note or to record a message to encase the idea for future Jeremy to exploit. The ideas just float away like the spider babies in Charlotte’s Web.
You know what? I’m tired of bemoaning my past inability to exploit my own subconscious mind for “creation.” I am going to start enjoying my daydreaming for the gift that it is. This rich piece of inner life has given this often lonely and unhappy mind of mine such rapturous pleasure. I know that my imagination does not wish to be harnessed, and for now I just want to revel in it. I think that I am handsome in a very niche chonky straight bear kind of way, but I think that my subconscious imagination is just truly beautiful. Do any of y’all have a completely internal talent? If so, comment below or email me. I am curious to see all of the hidden talents that the readers of this blog possess.
Thank you, as always, for reading.
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I’m a world class night time dreamer. For many years I wrote down my dreams and “analyzed” them for meaning. I have a whole symbol vocabulary of my own making. I stopped trying to figure out what they meant when I began analyzing them while I was dreaming. I still write down the truly spectacular ones. Recently I realized in writing them down I impose a linear frame for them—like writing a plot—that I’m not sure they possess. So I started focusing on writing down the scenes and emotions instead.