A Lack and Excess of Dreams

I have plenty of dreams. There’s the one about visiting every US state and collecting dirt from each one, or the one about taking a plane to nowhere, or having a cozy little apartment with eccentric decorations everywhere, or walking down the aisle looking like a million bucks, or having three beautiful children and knowing all their names ahead of time. I’ve got all these dreams, but nothing that has any practical meaning for my future.

That didn’t used to be a problem. I’m not a very practical person, and fluffy wishes have always been more important than actually planning for anything. But I’m getting older now. My peers are talking about their future careers, investigating colleges, and preparing for their lives, and I’m just sitting here. Waiting. Thinking. Not knowing.

How? For years, I had career dreams, no matter how vague. I was going to be a teacher, then an author, then a research psychologist–but now my mind is blank, just as I’m approaching independence. Why do I have an abundance of dreams concerning everything other than what I’m supposed to be focusing on? I don’t want to live in my parents’ basement and eat Cheetos all day. As much as I enjoy aimless wandering, I don’t want to feel completely and utterly directionless.

Yes, I’m happy, stable, and satisfied in life, but I’m beginning to feel a bit left out. Other people are getting their licenses when I haven’t ever driven over 20 mph. Other people are getting great grades, whereas I’m just trying to keep my motivation afloat until I find something to work for.

Not knowing has never made me feel so small.


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