This morning, the very first thing that greeted me on my Facebook feed was a group of girlfriends from high school living out a middle school dream These beauties had been in Las Vegas on New Year’s Eve, dressed in white, screaming and singing their hearts out at the Backstreet Boys concert at the Sphere.
And my honest, gut reaction? Pure excitement for them! Now let's be real though, 14 year old Jonelle would have been Hella jealous seeing this play out but 41 year old Jonelle, well I was happy to see three amazing women enjoying an incredible experience together. No jealousy. No comparison. Just this warm, sparkly feeling of "yes, now that's what I'm talking about!" But then… I brushed my teeth. And somewhere between toothpaste foam and mascara, and it hit me. At some point along the way, I stopped dreaming. Not practical dreams, those are alive and well. Pay the bills. Get the kids to school on time. Maybe choose to lose weight (and actively do something about it)?!!...But the dreams of the heart. You know, the wild ones. The playful ones. The “this makes no sense but lights me up” ones. Where have those dreams gone? Why and when had I quietly packed them away? And where the heck have I placed them? I know I haven't lost my ambition, and I definitely haven't lost my drive. I just guess that somewhere between diaper changes and survival mode, I forgot how to dream without needing thwm to be "reasonable."
On my drive to work, I did what I usually do, I turned on Dateline (because let’s be honest, it is the best)! But halfway through, I felt that my nervous system didn’t need another mystery. It needed hope. It needed music. It needed some nostalgia! Nostalgia from a time when dreaming was all I ever did, so I flipped the dial to 90s on 9, and just as it started, The Real World by Matchbox Twenty came on. I laughed out loud. Because of course it did! It felt like a gentle nudge from the Universe or maybe a full-on permission slip to stop letting the real world harden me so much. I am at my best when I'm true to myself and after all, dreaming is a big part of being honest with yourself, isn't it?
There's a definite difference between goals and dreams. Goals are beautiful. They move us forward. They create safety and structure. But dreams? Oh, Dreams are where our souls get to stretch! Dreams look like seeing Nick Carter and the Boys, in my 40s, on stage in another country, while being in the new year with like minded souls wearing white and forgetting the real world for a little while.Dreams for me are following a desire that isn't practical, but sure is necessary. Dreams don’t need a five-year plan. They don’t need to make sense. They don’t need to be productive. And they most definitely don’t need a permission slip. Somewhere along the way, many of us learn how to trade dreaming for surviving. We learned to be responsible, realistic, and resilient, and yes, those are powerful skills, but let's be honest, they were never meant to replace your joy. So here’s your reminder (and mine), to allow yourself to dream again! You’re allowed to want things just because they light you up, and you’re allowed to imagine yourself as the superhero of your own life! I can't stress this enough, but you're most definitely allowed to step out of reality from time to time and remember who you were before the world got heavy. The real world will still be there tomorrow. But today? Today, we choose to dream with our hearts and let our souls stretch.
Cheers,
Coach Jo <3
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