"Cheer up, sleepy Jean. Oh, what can it mean to a daydream believer?"
This old Monkees' tune was swirling around in my head this morning which got me to thinking about daydreams. No. Wait. First it was the video of the cat on the dash of a car going down the freeway which someone shared on Facebook with a caption about daydreaming. Then it was the Monkees' tune in my head.
Then I started thinking about how much daydreaming used to be a part of my life - and how it isn't anymore. Why is that? Is it because I'm getting to the end of my days on this level of existence and no longer daydream about the things I want to do, see, experience, already acknowledging that the ability and even desire are past?
The idea of travel doesn't even entice my daydreams any more. As recently as two years ago mentioning a road trip got me excited. Last fall we said if the winter was bad, we'd go to Arizona to visit family and friends. Our friend Kristina even tried enticing me by sending me a box of rocks from the wash she and her dog, Bobby, walk every day. I've walked there with her in the past and know what it's like to pick rocks in that wondrous wadi.
If I could get back to daydreaming, would I, could I once more be a believer? Would my good times start and end without dollar one to spend? How much do I really need?