Someone once told me there’s a difference between dreaming and pretending, and he was right. There are also differences between wanting and needing, between planning and doing, thinking and hoping–you could spend hours coming up with opposing pairs.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about some things. A lot of things, as you may or may not have noticed. I think a lot. Too much, some would say, but if you’ve been reading me for a while, you know I’d tell you that thinking too much is just about always preferable to thinking too little.
Mostly, I’m a hardcore realist. Mostly. I see things pretty much as they are and deal with them accordingly. I understand that there are a lot of things I simply can’t change and so I don’t fuss about them too much. Others, I fuss over too much and to no effect, but a girl’s got to have a hobby and that’s one of mine.
So, I’ve been thinking about this one thing every day lately–I can’t tell you what, but it’s something that matters a great deal to me–and while I think it’ll never happen, I still hope that it will.
That seems oxymoronic and maybe it is. I think it is, but I also think that hoping is just about the one thing that gets me out of bed in the morning. I hope every day will be better than the one before. There are steps I can take to ensure that might happen, of course, but then life is such a random thing there’s no guarantee. But I can hope and plan and do and sometimes it all works out, and even if it doesn’t, I still have hope for tomorrow.
Some hopes are just silly and unrealistic. I hope that someone will discover this blog, exclaim “That girl can write!” and then throw some money at me to do just that. There’ll be products and a book–a bestseller, ‘natch–then a movie in which Meryl Streep will play me, because we look so darn much alike, and it’ll be an instant classic and I’ll make truckloads of money and be able to retire and set up my charitable trusts and travel and goof off and do all the things I dream of and it’ll be awesome.
I hope I’ll wake up someday and my excess weight will be gone–poof!–just like that. I also hope my sugar cravings will just magically disappear and I’ll start loving my veggies and oatmeal and other foods that are good for me and I’ll just LOVE sweating and exercise and I’ll have an active and healthful lifestyle. Also, my developing wrinkles will go away and take my lower abdomen pooch with them. Okay, so I have a Buddha belly. That could go. It could happen.
I hope I’ll start loving my work and do it because it’s the BEST! TIME! EVER! and not because it’s a sad and evil necessity.
So there are silly hopes and then there are ones that have a better chance of coming to fruition. I hope that one day I’ll live out my dream of The Big Backyard, in which I buy a small RV and just go wherever the road and my whims take me, where I live in a small space but have the whole world spreading out before me as the biggest and best backyard ever and adventure awaits around every turn, or every other or so. Too many adventures would not be so good.
I hope, when I pick up my needles to do some charity knitting, that the hat I make will warm someone, inside and out, and that my small effort and the simple act of knitting will do some good in the world. I hope my tiny monetary contributions to the organizations I support will grow and prosper and heal someone somewhere.
I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.