Silly Dreams and Fancy Someday’s

I’m not a fancy gal or “high maintenance.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that! If you’re fancy or like things a particular way? Great, that’s a part of your unique personality. Me? I’m the opposite, which will work out much better because opposites attract or compliment, or balance each other.

Did I use or once too often? It sounds like I’m overcompensating for something. But this is the internet, and simple statements can be misconstrued and blown way out of proportion. People take things personally and feel attack or criticized by innocent statements.

So, yes, I’m overcompensating.

I don’t want you to feel like I’m coming after you on a personal level because I’m not a fancy-pants kinda gal. To each their own, and own it proudly. If you’re glittery, sparkly, and like to shine then, my friend, twinkle your star. Glow like the magnificent beast you are. Be the queen/king/monarch you were born to be!

I’m going to be over here in my sweatpants, ratty t-shirt, happily playing a stupid video game. Minding my own in my quiet corner of the galaxy. I’m perfectly content. Don’t worry about a thing. You go out and be sparkly.

Then again, I have my moments of fancy and when it comes to certain things, I’m a bit particular. Mostly when it comes to food. It’s a texture thing for me. Creamy things should be creamy; without any crunchy bits. Crunchy things shouldn’t gush or mush. There are very few scenarios where onions are an acceptable additive but don’t get me started on black olives or pumpkin.

I can be a particular eater so, yeah, that makes me a tiny bit fancy. Maybe we’re all fancy-schmancy in our own ways. Some just take it to a level that’s inspiring or exhausting, depending on your worldview. But, let’s just go with the former and assume the best in each other.

Imagine a world where we assumed the best instead of the worst. Ah, yes, and fairies would brush the unicorn’s mane with candy canes. If only!

Overall, though, I’m craving more simplicity, and I want to declutter my whole self. I feel mentally cluttered. My home looks physically cluttered. I desperately want to toss everything in a big old dumpster and wave good-bye. Sure, it’s not exactly practical, but a girl can dream.

Speaking of which, I was talking to a friend about my dream vacation, and it would take me far away from fancy. You know, when vacations become a thing people can do without being labelled an outbreak monkey or a plague rat. Someday, in the distant future, when a microscopic pathogen isn’t hellbent on global domination and the eradication of our species. 

Was that too pessimistic? Should I rewrite it? Oh, I know, let’s add this caveat. Hopefully, distance is as relative as time, and we’re talking months, not years. Soon we will be able to travel without spreading the plague!

Better? I’m trying to be more positive and think happy thoughts. You know, in my effort to declutter and all that.

I’ve done a fair bit of travelling, and I’ve tried a lot of variations of the experience. Airplanes, road trips, trains, and boats. I’ve stayed in hotels, motels, and tiny cabins with a thin sleeping bag. I’ve never camped, per se. I don’t think that a cabin counts as camping, even if it was on a campground. 

Camping should involve a tent, and your food should be stolen by a bear wearing a top hat and bow tie. That’s Camping! And I’ve never done that because I’m a city mouse who’s convinced she’ll get eaten by a predatory animal. I’m snack size, for goodness sake! Who doesn’t like that? You can eat twice as much without feeling like you’re ruining your dinner. 

Sure, it’s an illusion, and we’re just lying to ourselves, but it’s snack size! It’s irresistible.

Out of all my travels, the ones I’ve loved the most were the simplest and not at all fancy. I didn’t stay in a nice hotel with room service. The nearest restaurant was a five-hour drive, and the food we ate came out of a cooler and a backpack. There was no central heating, and the only thing keeping us warm was a bonfire.

Yeah, in my book, that’s not fancy, but if you were to ask me to describe my idea of heaven? This would be it, hands down. There would be a fire pit loaded full of dry wood and tinder. It would be a chilly night, but not cold. I would need a sweatshirt to stay warm, but that would be it because, once that fire’s lit, I’ll be a toasty little marshmallow.

The sky would be clear and full of stars. There would be trees all around me. No, wait, I have a better idea! There are trees behind me, sand underneath my feet, and an oceanfront view in front. Is there anything better than a bonfire on a beach?

The minute I stand by the shore of any body of water, my mood improves exponentially. Add the crackling sound of fire consuming dry wood and the waves crashing against the beach. I just sighed as I wrote those words because the imagery is pure perfection.

It’s not a flashy vacation with glitz or glam. Sure, okay, it’s a little shiny, but only in the literal, I see fire, sense. It’s basic, and perfect and… I can’t help myself, I just sighed again.

When we’re done with this pandemic hell-scape? I want to get in my car and drive to a beach in the middle of nowhere. I want to build a fire in one of those pits. I want to sit on some old piece of driftwood, the warmth of the fire making my skin tingle, and stare out at the water, stars, and flames.

That’s it. Just sit there. Nothing extravagant. Nothing, yes, I’m using that word again, fancy.

Maybe I could convince a couple of friends to rent an RV, and we can road-trip it over to Vancouver Island. Head up to Long Beach and slowly make our way to Tofino. It’s a small town on the northern tip of the island, and it’s one of the most beautiful places on earth. Quiet, peaceful, and it’s the perfect place to shed the stress we’ve been carrying.

There’s not much up there: Beaches, trees, and a few surfers. The waves run high, the weather can be wild, and when the wind blows, it blows right through you. It clears away all the worries and sets you free for a few minutes. Do you know what I mean? In that moment, there are no problems that can’t wait. There’s nothing that needs your attention more than that moment, standing on the beach, feeling the wind blow through you.

I like the idea of meditation, but I have a hard time staying in the moment. My ADHD mind is too chaotic and busy. I can’t sit still without doing something with my hands. Meditation is a beneficial practice. It can make my life immeasurably better but, I haven’t successfully incorporated it into my life.

Except when I’m on a beach, in front of a fire, and the wind is biting my skin. For me, that moment is…I don’t have the words to adequately describe it and calling it perfection again doesn’t do it justice.

After this last year, I would love to go up there and feel that sense of freedom, peace, tranquillity, alignment. Add some good friends, who I haven’t seen in person since this pandemic started, and I can’t think of anything better.

It would give me a chance to test out this silly dream I have. It’s something I’ve been toying with, but I don’t think it’s possible right now, or ever. Maybe it’s one of those things I talk about doing when the stars align? In my heart, though, I never really think it will happen.

Hope! Yes, but reality and hope are strange bedfellows. At least, in my experience, they are, but if I was a fancy gal who liked to shine then, they would be best friends. Do shiny people chase their dreams with more vigour than those of us who live in sweatpants and ratty old t-shirts? Does their need to sparkle add purpose to their pursuits? Do they wait for the stars, to align or turn to their hearts for advice?

This is an honest question, and if you have some thoughts, I’m happy to hear them in the comments.

Since I’m not fancy, I have a lot of dreams, and I call them silly. I assume they aren’t achievable, but they still tickle the back of my mind. Every once in a while, I go online and do some research. I try to do the math, and I wonder if it will ever be possible. Then I shake my head because, right now, I can’t see how I’ll ever financially or physically do it. 

Or, I’m worried reality won’t live up to the dream? Yeah, that’s entirely possible.

I live in a small one-bedroom apartment, and you’d think that I’d want to sell it, buy a big home, and own lots of land. It’s what most people do, and it’s probably more sensible, but I want to go in the opposite direction. Go smaller, not bigger. Sell everything I own, buy an RV, and live out of that for at least a year.

It’s- I keep using the word silly. I should open a thesaurus and be more creative. Will I do that? I like silly. It’s a fun word to write, think, and say out loud. Now I’ve said it too many times, and it doesn’t sound like a word anymore. Funny how that happens, eh?

Besides the money, practically speaking I don’t know how I’d go about achieving this dream. I’m 4’10, and I can’t drive a Ford Mustang because I’m too short to see out of the back. I had to sit on a pillow to see out of the windshield, and then I could barely reach the pedals. How on earth do I drive an RV or a camper van?

But if I could make it happen?

The thought of driving across the country and having a grand adventure is so enticing. I immigrated to Canada when I was a kid, and it was a move that literally saved my life. If we’d stayed in our home country? Honestly, I firmly believe that Canada saved my life, and I want to go out and see every inch of this beautiful country.

I would love to find a way to say thank-you, but I have no idea how to do that so, maybe I can touch every inch. Impart my gratitude that way? Okay, that does sound a little absurd, but wouldn’t it be lovely? Experiencing the diverse landscape and the cultures that call this place home. Having a home of my own as I travel to placate my homebody tendencies.

This silly little dream is breathtaking. It triggers the same feeling I get when I stand on a beach in Tofino or sit in front of a bonfire. A deep exhale. A meditative immersion. A dream, a hope, and a whole lot of what if’s.

This fantasy could be a pandemic hangover and a dire need to connect with people outside of my bubble. Maybe, when this is over, the dream will fade, and I’ll settle back into my routine life. There’s a chance that isolation is making me hallucinate silly little flights of fancy. Or if I was a fancier person, then I would chase this dream down and say to hell with the obstacles.

I don’t know but, for now, I’m content with the dream, and I’m happy looking forward to the someday’s to come. Maybe, by then, I’ll be a fancy-pants kinda gal.