what it means to enjoy the everyday

The imagination is a magical thing. In a matter of seconds, we can choose to transport ourselves into a new life, a new reality, a new way of being. We can conjure up entire conversations, scenarios, and experiences, without ever really being able to tell what’s real and what’s the mind gone rogue. Our memory and lived experience tell us one is true and the other envisioned—yet the body can’t often identify the difference. The body feels, it responds, it remembers—whether the image we gave it took place or not.

It’s incredibly easy to see how the mind can cause an awful lot of unwanted chaos and destruction in this way. If you’ve ever felt a touch of fear, anxiety, or anything deeper, you’ll understand. You’ll know the process—be on first-name terms with the outcome. I do. As much as I wish I didn’t, I know all too well how quickly the hold can come—how debilitating it is, how hindering.

But the beauty of having such a wild and oftentimes uncontrollable imagination is that we do also have the option to use it for good, for dreaming. As a child, I practically lived in a dream world. I imagined my very own secret garden, neatly tucked behind the shed at the very bottom of the garden behind our family home—a world only I could explore, only I could see. As a teen, I dreamed up ideal outcomes of interviews, interactions with whoever happened to be my romantic fixation at the time. As an adult, picturing the perfect future—trusting it would unfold on cue, exactly as I’d hoped, just as long as I could hold onto the belief that it would.

And yet, the ability to dream can quickly become as destructive as the fear.

The ability to dream enables us to unlock a sort of potential that doesn’t always exist in the physical world. Whether inspired by what we’ve absorbed through those around us, through media, or through pure desire, the dream can often take on a world of its own. The more we dream, the more we desire. The cycle continues until it becomes strong enough to act upon, if it ever does. Reader, I’m certain you’ll have experienced something of the same in the past—that seemingly burning desire to do or be or have a very specific thing, yet never actually acting upon it for one reason of another.

Yet, that reason becomes the crux of the matter. Might it be through intimidation or worry, indifference or an actual lack of motivation—the outcome is the same. The dream stays the dream, and maybe that’s for the best.

As humans, we love to long. It’s natural to think of longing as tedious or tiresome, and yet it has an impenetrable hold on us. We’re a nation of yearners. I, for one, tend to find myself lost in thought, trapped in a daydream that either attempts to rewrite the past into something softer, more favourable, or that predicts my future path in a way that makes the unknown more palatable. I’m a romantic by nature and enjoy this part of my personality—but I do fully appreciate how harmful it could go on to become should I not be careful.

Which, truth be told, I not always am.

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Longing, in its purest form, is not inherently bad. It’s quite the beautiful thing. To desire so deeply, to want so inately. But the trouble arises when we stay in the state of longing and struggle to see past it. I know because I’ve fallen trap to it one too many times. If you’ve ever wondered why I am such an avid advocate for living in the moment—of seeking presence as much as you possibly can—it’s because I’ve found myself living through thought a little too often and failing to create anything substantial in my life. Not always, but enough to feel as if I haven’t quite lived.

When longing becomes yearning—when wanting what we have already deemed unattainable for whatever reason—we instantly muddy the waters. And maybe that’s it, that’s where we must recognise that the state has switched from dream-mode to self-destruction? Perhaps it’s the object of desire—in whatever shape it takes—that is the cause for concern. Not because the thing itself is the issue, but the idea of whether or not it’s truly meant for us.

In life, there will be many, many a thing we like. A passion, a pursuit, a person, a city, a taste, a pastime, an idea—more things that we care to count. But what makes some of them stick and some of them saunter on to someone else? Personal preference will certainly be a strong factor, but I’d go as far as to say that influence often carries an even greater weight. But even in that, I’ve come to find that there’s a fundamental difference between liking the idea of something and appreciating that you’ll enjoy the everyday of what it entails.

Understanding the significance of that is incredibly grounding.

Is there anything more exciting than dreaming up the ideal life? Letting yourself get lost in the wonder of another world. Fantasising a life in a new country, the ideal career, the perfect partner or body or social life, and everything else that goes along with it. And yet, how much of that is just a fantasy and how much of it would sincerely speak to your soul? How much of the actual process—the detail that goes into that experience and how it feels, what it looks like, the actions you would be required to carry out each and every day—would bring you fulfilment and feel nurturing? How much of it would truly feel right?

I think of this a lot. Whenever a new idea strikes, I question it. I like to get curious. I like to ask myself how much of the desire has come through boredom or intrigue and how much of it is linked to how I’d genuinely enjoy spending my time. Because that is the epitome of life—how we choose to spend our time. Although time is yet another societal construct, we do have the choice of how we use it—and how we use it creates a life.

Some thoughts will come and go, others will stay with us. Others will start out as seedlings that go on to become big, beautiful, wonderful ideas that curate the kind of life we’ve always—dare I say it—longed for. But dedicating just a touch of time to developing the faculty to distinguish the difference between what’s an impressionable longing and what might be something we’d enjoy the everyday process of is priceless. Rather than wishing what could be a wholesome and great life away on a dream that may never come—a dream that was never meant for us in the beginning—settling into a series of everyday actions that feel true is the sign of a life well loved.

Reader, it’s so much fun to dream, an utter joy to revel in wonder and the giddiness it brings—but never at the expense of a fulfilling and pleasurable reality. All too often, we allow ourselves to be swept away with the possibility of becoming, forgetting that the opportunity to do so is always available to us.

Thank you for being here and reading—it truly means the world to me. hi this

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