About that Dream of Yours...
Bob and I went “garage saling” this morning in Winterset. There weren’t many sales to choose from, since the citywide garage sale happened last weekend. The town is pretty well garage-saled-out.
But in this week’s shopper, Bob found one ad for a sale that sounded perfect. It started at 8:00 this morning—on a Saturday, so the merchandise wouldn’t be picked over from yesterday. It was located just outside of town, meaning we probably wouldn’t encounter a crowd. And the ad included no house number, just driving directions of “one mile west and one mile south.”
I’m happy to live in a place where that’s enough to get you where you’re going. But I have to admit, it wasn’t easy. One sign pointed us in the right direction. But after that, we were one our own. One mile west soon turned into two, and we saw no other signs.
“Turn here,” Bob said randomly as we approached a crossroad.
“Why here?” I asked. “Why not any other road?”
“Was there another road before this one?” he asked.
Hmm. Excellent question. I couldn’t remember. And I was driving.
We turned around and headed back the way we’d come, looking for an intersection. Finally, we found another road. One mile south, we sailed past a tiny blink-and-you-miss-it sign. We turned around in the middle of the highway and followed the gravel drive.
An old farmhouse. A barn. A corn crib. Two campers. Cornfields stretching out to the west. And a man in a seed corn cap seated at a table with a cash box, enjoying the perfect May day.
We did the typical Iowa greeting. “Morning. Nice day. Supposed to get hot later on.” Then we set to work. Bob felt his invisible pull toward all things tools, and I walked into the garage to mull over the housewares.
I saw a small oak table, Christmas dishes, a queen-size duvet and shams. A decorative pillow that said, “Who needs Santa? I’ve got Grandma.”
And then I saw another little pillow with a 50-cent sticker on it.
“Don’t quit your daydream.” It said.
At first I thought it was just cute. A nice play on “Don’t quit your day job.” I kept going, looking at glass candy dishes and an ice cream maker. But I circled around and came back to it.
Don’t quit your daydream.
Cliché as those words might seem, I felt a pull to them, thinking how much I’ve needed to hear them throughout my life.
I needed them when I was a teenager and dreamed of being seen and understood, when I had no idea where I fit in.
I needed them when I quit my full-time job to become a freelance writer, even though I had no guarantee how I’d support myself.
I needed to hear them when I got divorced and dreamed of finding love and a life again.
I needed to hear them then, and I still do.
I’m inclined to think we all do.
Every day I work with writers whose books and screenplays started with a daydream. They’ve done the work. They’ve written, they’ve learned, they’ve grown. They have immense talent and voices that will bring something new and important to the world.
And still, their daydreams are at risk. The bigger the dream gets, the more it’s accompanied by Fear, who jogs right alongside it, keeping pace and looking for opportunities to kick a rock in the path when no one’s looking.
Good stuff comes from daydreams if we let it, if we jump over the rocks or kick them out of our way and keep going. I’m reminded of an interview we did with Bonnie Garmus for Story Summit last fall. (You can see a clip from the interview by scrolling down on this page.) The author of Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie says people are amazed that she was 64 when her debut novel came out, as if she was too old to write a bestseller.
“It’s never occurred to me to read somebody based on their age!” she said. (By the way, her book has sold more than six million copies.)
She’s proof that daydreams show up at any age, and anywhere—even one mile west, one mile south. They’re there when you least expect them. And they’re always in you.
So I encourage you to think about my new pillow’s 50-cent message, maybe even write about it. Don’t quit your daydream.
And if you do, please share it in the comments if you’re willing. Here are some prompts to get you started.
“What started as a daydream in my life is now....”
“My current daydream is....”
“The reason I won’t quit my daydream is...”
With blessings,
Deb
P.S. One of my daydreams is to bring more purpose and focus to my Substack columns—especially around writing and spirituality—so I’d love to hear what’s on your mind. What are you most interested in? What would make your life better? Feel free to share in the Comments section if you like.
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A NOTE TO MY READERS: I write “A Whole New World” as a member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, which is led by Julie Gammack, of Des Moines. I’m honored to be part of this group, featuring the diverse voices of more than 50 professional writers and journalists across the state of Iowa. I encourage you to check out their columns.
Here’s our line-up:
Nicole Baart: This Stays Here, Sioux Center
Ray Young Bear: From Red Earth Drive, Meskwaki Settlement
Laura Belin: Iowa Politics with Laura Belin, Windsor Heights
Tory Brecht: Brecht’s Beat, Quad Cities
Dartanyan L. Brown: My Integrated Live, Des Moines
Jane Burns: The Crossover, Des Moines
Dave Busiek: Dave Busiek on Media, Des Moines
Iowa Writers Collaborative: Roundup
Steph C: It Was Never a Dress, Johnston
Art Cullen: Art Cullen’s Notebook, Storm Lake
Suzanna de Baca: Dispatches from the Heartland, Huxley
Debra Engle: A Whole New World, Madison County
Randy Evans: Stray Thoughts, Des Moines via Bloomfield
Daniel P. Finney: Paragraph Stacker, Des Moines
Arnold Garson: Second Thoughts, Okoboji and Sioux Falls
Julie Gammack: Julie Gammack’s Iowa Potluck, Des Moines and Okoboji
Avery Gregurich: The Five and Dime, Marengo
Fern Kupfer and Joe Geha: Fern and Joe, Ames
Jody Gifford: Benign Inspiration, West Des Moines
Rob Gray's Area: Rob Gray’s Area, Ankeny
Nik Heftman: The Seven Times, Iowa
Beth Hoffman: In the Dirt, Lovilla
Iowa Capital Dispatch, an alliance with IWC
Iowa Podcasters Collaborative,
Iowa Podcasters' Collaborative
Deb— The topic of your workshop at the Okoboji Writers’ Retreat this fall could be: “How to take a garage sale pillow and turn into a beautiful column. Pillow: 50 cents. Column: Priceless.
What started as a daydream is now reaching and connecting Iowans from river to river. I am so grateful to you, Deb, and all the daydreams we've shared. To many more.