Wednesday, April 23, 2014


Most people have read Shel Silverstein’s poem “Masks” about two blue people who are looking for a blue friend, but miss meeting each other because they cover up their blueness with masks.  If you haven’t, look it up.  It’s sad and funny and poignant…and true.  We all wear masks of one kind or another.  Some we are aware of and some become so much a part of the image that we want to project to the world that we don’t even realize we put them on every morning.

I am a daydreamer.  That is my blue face, or part of it anyway.  I can daydream a day away and not regret a single minute of it, but it hasn’t always been that way.  I used to think it was a waste of time.  I used to think that it fell under the dreaded category of “UNPRODUCTIVE” things to do.  Other people seemed to always be busy working, socializing, studying, crafting, building things, taking things apart, acquiring things.  I felt like I should be, too, so I got down to the Sisyphean task of rejecting my strengths and strengthening my weaknesses.

Sisyphean tasks are exhausting.  Really exhausting.  I eventually stopped to catch my breath and realized that I wasn’t quite as doomed as Sisyphus.  I was pushing that boulder uphill by choice and I could just as easily choose to let go of it.  I did.  The truth is that living a rich internal life is so natural to my personality that I had never really stopped doing it.  I had tried to stop.  I had felt bad about not stopping, but I was still a daydreamer.

It was a relief to finally take off that mask. And I found out that daydreaming can be very productive.  I work, study, craft, build things, take things apart, and acquire ideas.  I do what every writer does, create a world out of nothing, take it apart, and then rebuild it in words for everyone else to see.
I still practice my day job, do laundry, feed the cat, and socialize (with real people), but I also embrace the things that I love to do.  I won’t miss out on meeting my blue friends.  Not today.

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