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When You Dream, What Do You Dream About?

As a child, did you ever dream about being a movie star with popcorn in your hand? I did. At first, I thought that the job wouldn’t require that much work. How tough can it possibly be to put the shoes on of another and walk in them? Studying personas, perfecting imitations and acting like somebody else can’t be that difficult. Could it be? At that point, my mind decided to jump on the dream of being a movie star and rode it like a horse to Hollywood.   dreamcatcher

I often envisioned myself on stage acting in front of a whole crowd of people, on television or in a movie. The work I was doing was enjoyable and sorta fulfilled an emptiness, a void so to speak, in my life that can only be fulfilled by actually living, and not acting. Eventually, I got lost in this so-called acting career and needed a little time away. Thoughts of success and praise by the people that watched my performances filled my head, but I still didn’t know the real me. My mind saw acting as my forte, but I didn’t understand how I can act like somebody else when I didn’t know myself.

Was my vision of being a movie star my mind’s way of escaping reality? It’s likely. I think finding oneself can be more difficult than taking on the identity of another individual. Being you and being different requires work. You cannot mirror yourself to find the real you. You have to figure out who you are by actually living, which includes determining your life-long career, discovering your likes and dislikes and finding friends to participate in your hobbies.

My horse to Hollywood stopped and I dismounted. Do I really want to be a movie star? Why would my mind want to hide behind another persona every day? If you continuously act like somebody else, you will never find the real you. And people who know you, will only know you as the person that you are imitating.

After opening my eyes, my heart and my mind to discover myself, I found life to be more pleasurable. My thoughts of nothingness were more peaceful, my friends were real and I was content knowing the real me.

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