Note to Myself # 8

When I was a kid,

daydreaming was a given.

When I wasn't focused on multiplication

or fractious fractions

or the order of the planets

outward from the sun,

my mind would wander.

Daydream.

Imagining wondrous adventures

I'd have when I was grown up.

Imagining being grown up.

Wondering when my prince would come

(and foolishly believing that he'd

rescue me from everything humdrum

and we'd be blissfully in love ever after).

But being an adult

means thinking about what to make for dinner,

wondering if the front door got locked,

feeling guilty about not having gotten tax info ready,

paying the bills, taking the car for servicing,

clearing clutter,

being on time for work even when you'd rather sleep,

and so much more.

We have a tendency to fill up the time

we used to spend in waking reverie
with all manner of things

and something is lost.

A sense of potential.

A momentary escape from humdrum tasks.

The notion that things will work out.

A magical, reservation-free vacation 

from responsibility.

Make time to daydream.

Even just a little.

Who knows what new vistas might open?