Dreams are funny, aren’t they?
The way they start off as wistful thoughts borne on a long car ride, those sleepy seconds right before you wake up, a long day at work, a moment of quiet contemplation. Sometimes they slip quietly into your heart and before you know it, they’ve grown roots, entrenching deep within you in a fiery spark of hope that you keep fighting for day after day.
Sometimes dreams die, or are stolen or outgrown, and then you make room for new ones—a painful sort of rebirth. Sometimes you’re afraid of what price a dream will demand: your courage, your peace, your comfort zone. What will it cost in your attempt to make it come true? Is it worth the price you paid? What if nothing happens?
What if everything changes?
I’ve told GC (my partner) before that, “Sometimes I wish I had just like, chill hobbies. Something different than writing. Sometimes writing feels like it’s going to burn me up inside with the wanting of it.” But that’s the pain and the beauty of it.
Overall, having dreams—big or small—gives me the motivation to go on adventure and broaden my life in ways I’m often not expecting. I see new places, meet new people, and—occasionally—change my life. And while I love dreaming those big, all-consuming dreams (*coughnovelpublicationcough*), I also love the small ones that happen, sometimes by accident.
I’ll give you an example. I fell in love with Elvis Presley the summer of 2022.
I’d grown up hearing his music all my life, knew nothing about him, and had no idea that when I saw a movie about him released that year, an obsessive fandom tsunami would be unleashed within me (on a level I had not experienced since the Lord of the Rings films came out while I was a teenager).
I was mesmerized. Over the next few months I bought every book I could find about him; amassed sweatshirts, posters, records, and TCB necklaces; watched all his movies; memorized too many songs; consumed every album; tried his favorite foods; and I started planning a pilgrimage to Graceland for Christmas. It all set me on fire. I was fascinated by his music, his generosity, the highs and lows of his life, the tragedy of his death, and his resulting legacy. I ended up making so many new online friends because of it (even met some in person). It was amazing: a bit of magic courtesy of EP as I connected with fellow fans over a shared passion that I’d stumbled into wholly by accident. It was, admittedly, an expensive obsession to fall into (#noregrets), but you know what else it brought me? Joy.
So. Much. Joy.
I learned about something new, it expanded my historical and musical horizons, I made new friends, went on adventures (visiting Graceland made me deliriously happy—more than words can say). And all of it came from one small action (seeing a movie) that fueled a bigger dream (immersing myself in all things Elvis).
Here’s the thing—adulting sucks, right? Like it never exactly feels like figuring out life gets easier—we just learn to manage and handle the cards we’ve been dealt. But dreams make it all more interesting, bearable, enjoyable even. Big dreams and small ones.
I grew up in a big family—I’m the oldest of ten kids. Many of us developed passions for creative pursuits as kids (art, singing, writing) that we feverishly pursued into adulthood. But I remember talking to one of my sisters once, and she lamented that she “wasn’t like the rest of us.” She didn’t have a big dream. At the time, I remember feeling a little sad with her—as if you could only be born with a dream, not learn to build new ones.
Dreams don’t have to be these expansive, all-consuming things you’re born with or naturally gifted at. You can develop new ones at any time, and it’s a marvelous thing—to see where a dream can take you. My mother used to do this dreaming exercise with us every New Year’s Eve. In encouraging us to enrich our lives and dream new dreams, we’d sit down before the New Year’s countdown and answer a series of questions. Then we’d write them down on pieces of paper, share which ones we felt comfortable sharing with each other, and then tuck them away in a sealed envelope to review next year. The next year we’d privately open them and see how those dreams measured up. Dreams don’t always fall into your lap, sometimes they take a little imagination (or a few leading questions) to nudge along.
I challenge you to take the time to try answering these questions for yourself. Dream up some new dreams. You might be surprised where they take you.
(from Matthew Kelly’s Amazing Possibilities)
1. What did you do as a child that you’d like to do again?
2. Who would you have lunch with (any person living or dead)?
3. What language would you learn?
4. What fear do you dream of overcoming?
5. What would you change about your home/space (ie: live on a beach/mountain, knock down a wall, build a pool, declutter, etc)?
6. What show do you want front row seats to?
7. What spiritual habit do you wish to grow in (ie: daily prayer, spiritual read, Bible reading, church, etc)?
8. What musical instrument do you want to learn to play?
9. What hobby do you want to explore?
10. What virtue do you want your life to exemplify?
11. Who would you reconnect with from your childhood?
12. Which relationship would you like to improve/want to be better?
13. What town/city/place would you want to live at for 6 months to reset your life?
14. What 5 people in history would you want to meet?
15. What addiction would you like to overcome (ie: could be anything, from overeating to phone use, etc)?
16. What would you like your dream job to be?
17. What are your top 5 vacation destinations for the next 5 years?
18. Who do you most want to express gratitude to? Who do you appreciate?
19. What qualities do you want to be most remembered for?
20. Where do you see yourself/what do you hope to have accomplished in 5 years?
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