August 2015 has been a prolific month for me. I have started this lovely blog whereas I have always been afraid of what people could think about my writing skills and my — too honest and direct — thoughts and opinions. I have started writing again, after two years of dry ink in my pen. I bought my tickets for a trip to Stockholm in October. I have even been reposted by Grok Nation on Instagram and Mayim Bialik liked one of my comments on Facebook — which, in my dad’s head, means Mayim herself is going to call me to have a drink soon. And, more meaningful to me, I am going to start my second year of Psychology and Neuroscience studies with an unsual peaceful mind, looking forward to learn more about humain beings, practice jazz dance, and meet foreign students.
My life sounds sweet and beautiful, and my dreams are coming true, slowly but surely. But there is a dark cloud on the horizon. I am optimistic and joyful. Wait, you don’t think it is a dark cloud, right? Well, the fact is, people tend to see the gloomiest side of every event and don’t understand why I smile all the time. They don’t understand me, and unfortunately, they send me negative vibes. They don’t understand why I am so positive about what happens in my life, even if it is a tiny moment. I may have an explanation.
The other day, I was thinking of my future blog post when my dad told me: “You don’t wait for things to happen, you go for them.”
And it is true. I am used to saying I am not really a dreamer in life. Don’t get me wrong, I dream like everybody, I even dreamed of my Literature teacher dressed as Snow White, speaking to Winnie the Pooh. Also, I am often in my world, trying to figure out things that nobody cares about — tell me why, in France, English titles of movies are sometimes translated in other… English titles? — and I have my head in the clouds. It is the definition of a dreamer, isn’t it? I paint, I draw, I sing in my bathroom and I imagine dialogues with people who are not in the room. I am an idealist, I think good is in all of us, I think we can do something for the world at any scale, I think we have to respect — if we can’t appreciate — each other. I live surrounded by colors, I laugh all the time and I never let you down when your joke makes a flop. I love positive thoughts, I love sunny and rainy days, I love dancing on summer hits and waltzing on Edith Piaf. I like the sound of autumn leaves when I walk on them. I love simple moments and big events. I think everything is possible even if the Universe seems against me. I am optimistic and joyful.
But do you know what is the difference between a dreamer and me? The difference is, I want to make it happen. I want all of this to be my reality, not my oneiric world. “You don’t wait for things to happen, you go for them.” Why would I wait? I want to live, fully, everything, at any time, at any age. Do you know the difference between a dreamer and me? I love life and he loves time. When you think you have time to do whatever you want, you will always extend the deadline but when you starve from living, you will stretch your limits.
I dream at night and during the day. I dream all the time, even in lectures. When I vacuum, when I brush my teeth, when I read a book, when I look at sunsets. But as Dumbledore says: “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” And this is the reason why I am not a dreamer girl. For a long time, — I will spare you the details –, I felt disconnected from the world and people that were around me. If you ever read The Stranger by Albert Camus, you certainly can understand what I mean. In The Stranger, Meursault, the main character, is totally detached from reality, from society’s values and expectations. Everything is solitude, neutrality. There is a distance between what you read and feel, and what the character does and feels. In fact, Meursault is dehumanized, he has no feelings. He doesn’t see purpose in life. He doesn’t make the difference between good and evil. I was like that. Maybe not as much as him, but my every day life was a repetition of meaningless movements until someone woke me up.
Boom. A huge boom, not a little boom.
I started planning things and setting goals. Yes, goals. That’s the word. No more dreams, only goals. Of course, I still use the word “dream”. Because it is magical. Because it is childlike. Because it is optimistic and joyful. But my dreams have a purpose in life. I don’t want them to stay in my mind, I don’t want them to appear at night. They have to explore the world. I want to live life to the full. I am not a waiter, I am a fighter — for those who believe in Astrology like my mom, read Aries, Lion rising, moon in Capricorn.
I am alive and happy to be so.
By setting goals, I started realizing how beautiful I could be. I started accepting my qualities and I stopped hiding them. You know, we are always speaking about things we don’t like about ourselves, but it is also a way to hide who we really — and more importantly — are. Don’t feel guilty for having pretty qualities.
When I was thinking of my dad’s words, a virtual friend tagged me on her drawing: “Be yourself. Don’t give up. Believe in your dreams.” I am. I won’t. I do. It is not because you don’t fit in standards that you are not worth it. It is not because you failed once that you won’t have a second chance. It is not because your dreams seem big that you can’t acheive them. I am not a dreamer because I have found myself. My inner me is not passive. My inner me is dynamic. My inner me loves life and tries to make you see it through its eyes. Tell me, who are you? When you answer this question, nothing will stop you.
For my part, I am optimistic and joyful.
Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. – Howard Thurman