Recently, I've been called something that not many would call me before ... a realist. I've never been a realist before. I don't usually take that view but I've come to the conclusion that I am becoming more of a realist.
I used to be the eternal optimist, the go to guy for wishful thinking. It was easier in the past because my optimism was fueled by the sure-fire knowledge that I could be as bright, as cheery, and as wishful as I wanted ... it was better to be that for me because it kept reality at bay.
The reality was that, in the past, I was never going to even approach the optimistic dreams I had. I was never going to get there so why focus on that fact ... why not focus on the dream? Sometimes the dream is more important and in the past it was.
In the past I was a severely overweight guy with just optimistic thinking.
In the present I am a much thinner guy with reality staring me in the face and my optimism nowhere to be found.
Now that I'm thinner, now that I'm in a shape that isn't round, I can achieve all kinds of things that before I was optimistic about.
The problem is none of those optimistic dreams had any real meaning. They were placeholders, if you will, there to just keep me focused on the good things that MIGHT happen but likely wouldn't. Now that I'm in a position to achieve some of those optimistic dreams I find them to be ... pathetic. Sad.
No, no ... I find them empty.
Yes, empty is the word.
They weren't dreams that had any long term meaning ... they were like pieces of chewing gum. I sat there and chewed on them, enjoying them, but now that I'm not the fat guy anymore that gum has lost its flavor. It's a rubbery nothing that offends my taste buds.
So, I spit it out.
I'm just not sure what to put in its place.
Optimism was easy when the dreams were just ... dreams. I have plenty of dreams. Some recurring and many brand new. I remember my dreams in the morning and if I find them interesting enough, I put them down in my dream log. It's cool to look back on some of them and use them as inspiration for some creative project.
But I'm finding it harder to do that with the ultimate creative project: myself. I have all these old dreams, these optimistic unachievable dreams that no longer hold any meaning for me ... they were just there to make me feel better before. What do I do with these dreams?
Do I adjust? Do I admit to myself that these dreams weren't real dreams but merely something for me to chase, a mirage? At one time these dreams HAD to mean something to me, if only for a short while, but they've been rendered meaningless now.
Do I remember? Do I chase after these dreams? I feel like that's me reaching back to something familiar.
I like the familiar. I like routine. I like habits. I like predicting things and having them play out as predicted.
I'm slow to change. I'm stubborn and often I find myself coming to a conclusion long after everyone else came to the same conclusion weeks/months/years before.
Reality stares at me. My optimistic dreams are within my grasp if I really desire it but I don't. I don't want to reach out to those old, familiar dreams. They were formed by an individual who wasn't looking to achieve them ... he was looking to use them as comfort. As a crutch.
I need new dreams but I want them to be hopeful, to be optimistic.
I don't want to be a realist gone cynic. It's too easy to be that and I shouldn't be that jaded (as many tell me). I want to be able to think happy thoughts and put those thoughts into a goal.
But happy thoughts are hard to come by to these days.
It's hard being an optimist, hard thinking happy thoughts, when I worry so much. God, I worry a lot. I try not to stress, I try not to worry, but at night I worry ... I have too much time on my hands at night I suppose.
I don't worry about myself. I'm dead last in the worry category ... I can adapt. It might take a while, I might kick and scream, but I will adapt.
I worry about family. I worry about friends. I kick around so many scenarios in my brain about things that could happen I lose sleep. Some nights I don't sleep.
I never had that problem as the eternal optimist. But as a realist? I have problems turning off the "being real" portion of my brain. Often it goes further than reality would actually allow it. My imagination is a powerful ally and enemy.
It's not easy being an optimist anymore. I miss it.
Thanks for reading folks. Have a good night.