Dreams are funny. Last week, I had to renew my mental healthcare license with with the State of Florida and when it arrived, I sent my mom a picture and said, “This is still so weird to me!” She responded, “Dreams do come true!”
Working in mental healthcare was never my dream. I remember sitting at my desk, daydreaming about 30+ year old me living in a big city, stopping for my morning coffee, and driving to a job I would love. I never, EVER, in a million years thought that big city would be Orlando, that my coffee would be French Roast blended with Coconut Oil, and that my dream job would working as a mental health counselor. That was not my dream.
My dreams involved New York City, craft brewed lattes, a nicer car, and a funky, shabby-chic loft apartment. My dreams involved a 32-year-old Lindsey wearing a smaller size, hip clothes, and cute shoes. However, I am living my dream.
While my dreams for adult me involved different details, they had one common thread: a joyful me who loves what she does and wakes up excited to embrace the day. In the past, I thought that meant acting, marketing, public relations, running a large business, or taking on a large entrepreneurial endeavor. I did not realize reality it would include scraping by and asking for help to start a ministry/small-business-to-be while entering into the messiness of other people’s lives.
The dream I am living is not what I expected. Far from it, actually. Ok, COMPLETELY OPPOSITE. But this morning, as I walked to my car and inhaled the Florida sunshine (and pollen), I realized I was so happy and grateful to be where I am and to do what I do. Is it hard? YES. Do I wonder if I am crazy sometimes? YES. But it is so incredibly worth it.
So here’s to dreaming the dreams we don’t even know we dream. I love when life is surprising like that.