Problems Dreamers Will Understand

I’ve decided to compile a list of problems I’ve had to deal with as a dreamer in hopes that other people will be able to relate. Not all dreamers have all of these issues, and these issues are not reserved just for dreamers. However, I hope this will be easy to relate to for those who think similarly to me.

  1. Having too many aspirations and visions of a perfect future. I’m constantly thinking about all the glorious things I could be. I’m going to be an A student, a passionate animal rights activist, and a yoga nut; and I’m going to sign up for martial arts, pastel classes, environmental volunteer opportunities, and oh yeah, I could start my own a capella folk band! Rarely do I develop plans or attach any sort of practicality to these hopes.
  2. Losing sight of the short-term. When I do create a step-by-step road map for one of these goals, I skip thinking about the hard work and start fantasizing about how great I’ll be once I’ve reached the end. I’m going to start off running a minute and walking a minute-and-a-half, and soon I’ll be running 10 minutes, 30, and ooh! I’ll run a 10k and then a marathon!” When I actually start at the very beginning, I’m slapped with the harsh reality that I’m not even close–and then I feel dejected, often losing my motivation altogether.
  3. Drifting off. This, I think, is one of the most well-known problems for dreamers. Focusing in classes, ceremonies, and even day-to-day conversations is a struggle–I get so caught up in chasing a dream around my head or excitedly planning a brilliant reply that I completely miss what’s actually being said.
  4. Attaching unnecessary meaning to everything. For me, the whole world is full of poetry and possibilities. It seems that my brain is hardwired to view everything this way. Metaphors and sentimentality come out of nowhere. As a result, random objects become very meaningful–cereal pieces, patterns on the ceiling, and even dirty laundry.
  5. Being overwhelmed with ideas. My mind is very tangential. One idea leads to another, which leads to another, and another, and so on. I become like an iPhone–with too many apps running, I get slow and bogged down. I have to take a few minutes (perhaps even a few hours depending on how overwhelmed I am) to breathe deeply and close out some thoughts!
  6. Struggling to be mentally present. It’s often really, really hard for me to focus on my physical surroundings. While taking walks or riding in the car, I’ll suddenly realize that I’ve been so lost in my labyrinth mind that I’ve completely missed all my surroundings. Of course, it will be different once I get my driving permit (just two weeks now)!
  7. Being known as the weird one. Everyone knows me as strange, quirky girl with too many thoughts and feelings. I’m unpredictable, unconventional, but rarely unenthusiastic. So many things interest me, especially personal relationships. I externalize my strangeness around people, especially those I feel comfortable with. But see, being known as the weird one is compliment. I love myself just the way I am. And so should you, dreamer or not.

Knight Running

Just after I wrote my most last post (Taking Control), I was filled with a sort of zany motivation. Sometimes that happens to me, usually after I’ve just interacted with people. I wanted to do something completely wild, to shake it up a little. More specifically, I wanted to act out my feelings of confidence. I decided to go for a run.

Going for a run doesn’t seem very zany. Well, that’s because it isn’t. Usually when I go running, I put my hair up and change into workout clothes. This time, I didn’t. I put on a knight costume I got back when I was ten or so. I put on that knight costume, grabbed my foam sword and shield, and just ran. I didn’t bother with my hair. I was still wearing jeans and a hoodie under the costume, but that didn’t matter. It was just me and my thoughts, me and my motivation.

See, this is the explanation behind my new blog name, Dauntlessly Cautious. Ask my closest friends, and they will be able to tell you that I’m incredibly spontaneous and, well, crazy. I’ve been known to get sudden urges to eat dandelions or join the cross country team, despite how god-awful I am at running. I often speak before I think, which results in me blurting out the weirdest things. Yet, at the same time, I can easily sink into contemplation and become so deep in imagination that I completely lose touch with my surroundings. I can second-guess myself so much I work my thoughts into a tight knot. It’s like I have a switch that flips between silly dolphin and reflective bluebird at random. I’m unpredictable. These two extremes create a sort of civil war within me. I get an exhilarating buzz from the contradiction. It makes me feel so alive. 

Back to my knight running. (It’s funny because it’s night time. So it’s night knight running.) A few people saw me, and I think they thought I’d cracked, but I really didn’t care. “Nobody can stop me. I have a freaking sword,” I said aloud. I swear, I never want to grow up. Internally, that is. I’ll be the strange neighbor who skips around the block wearing a hula skirt and a broomstick, and I’m not going to care. 

One of my great fears is being known as shallow. I am anything but. Even when I’m in my spontaneous mood, I still have my introspective side running in the background. It’s like the two sides thumb wrestle, and they each have equal strength. I can be shoveling salsa in my mouth while dancing the Chicken Dance one minute, and be wrapped in questions about the complexity of life the next. I can be waiting in my metaphorical tower, sighing over the thought of a handsome prince in shining armor, and be pulling on my own armor to go on an adventure the next.

Right now, I’m my own knight in shining armor. Literally.
Sort of. 

Don’t Laugh At Me…

Don’t Laugh At Me…

I remember, in fifth grade, a group of guys had ganged up on me yet again. All I remember from that day is sitting at my table, crying, and doing the only thing I knew how to do–pick up my pencil and tear out a sheet of paper. A few months ago, while cleaning my room, I found that piece of paper. This is what I wrote that day.

“Everyone thinks I’m so weird but they don’t even stop to think that Albert Einstein was weird and look what he has become. All those genius people were weird. No one thinks that maybe I have human feelings too and that somehow, somewhere I could change the world. If I was treated with respect I could soar instead of being chained up in lies. No one ever thinks that beauty is skin deep and even though I’m fat it doesn’t matter. I hate all the stupid people who have made fun of me. Because you will regret it when I change the world. And I’ll give my special thanks speech and you WILL NOT BE THANKED!!!!!!!!!!!” 

At that young age, I would plead with with my tormentors to stop hurting me. “No, really,” I’d say. “I’ll change the world one day. You’ll see. Please don’t hurt me. Just give me a chance. Please? Please? I know you think I’m stupid and ugly. But please, just give me a chance. Please.” I thought that if I just begged hard enough, they’d stop and start accepting me–because who could hate a vulnerable little ten-year-old? Well, they did. They did so very much, and I didn’t understand why.

Sometime in seventh grade, I strayed from my own beliefs of kindness and acceptance and became mean (I was also being bullied myself during this time). I wanted the control for once. I wanted to feel powerful by inflicting the same harm on others that was being inflicted on me. Doing this, however, never gave me the satisfaction. It really just made me feel worse about myself–that I could betray myself in such a way. The breaking point was when I heard a girl plead with me in the way I would plead with my own tormentors. “I know you think I’m weird and disturbing…and weird,” she said, eyes full of fear and hurt. I couldn’t bear to be so hurtful after that day.

I’ve grown to a point where I don’t feel the need to spew venom at other people to try reasoning with my own pain. If you want to wear polka-dot rain boots and bright orange jumpsuits, I won’t mind. Maybe I’ll think it’s cute and try to dress like that, too. If you talk strangely, I won’t mind. I’ll talk to you like I would anybody. If you love math and reading Geometry books in your spare time, we’ll respectfully agree to disagree.

I’m not perfect. Sometimes I find myself judging someone in my mind–but don’t we all? Everyone is learning. The best thing we can do is keep trying to be kind–not just to tolerate, but to accept.

The Modern Atlas

Many of you may know the Greek myth–Atlas holding the world upon his shoulders. I’ve always been quite fascinated with the story. Perhaps the rain is really Atlas’ sweat as the weight bears down…actually, that’s disgusting. Never mind.

The reason I’m bringing this up is because mankind has been on my mind. Again. I’m always talking about this sort of thing, aren’t I?

When I hustle through the hallways of my school, I glance at my fellow students. Okay, I’ll admit, many of them are complete imbeciles. But I can’t help but feel such great compassion for them–for everyone’s pain.

What if one person could take the entire world’s pain upon their shoulders. Yes, it would make that person’s life a living hell…but the rest of the world would be living in bliss. I’d make that sacrifice. Even if it meant giving up everything, I’d do it for the world. My loved ones. My community. I’d be the modern Atlas.

Has anyone else felt this way? Discuss your thoughts.

That is your daily dose of my strangeness for the day.