Big dream energy, tiny actions
For those as unpractical as moi.
I’m a dreamer (figuratively, not literally—I count a ‘dream sleep’ as a 'bad sleep’). But figuratively, I’m a completely impractical, imaginative dreamer. My head is very much in the clouds and the view is fantastic.
This manifests in a myriad of ways including, but certainly not limited to:
‘time optimism’—deeming 15 minutes before we need to leave for swimming lessons as the best time to meal prep for the week;
genuinely believing Zoë Foster Blake and I will be best friends (we’ll probably meet at an authors event—she’ll rave about my book);
a deep faith that one day a long lost grandmother will find me to tell me I’m the sole heir to the kingdom of Genovia. (I’m strong and directive—perfect qualities for the leader of a fictional country.)
But practically, day-to-day, it means I’m full of ideas with very little understanding or thought given to how long any of them will take to complete. I’m the embodiment of all the gear, no idea. A great idea hits me so I drop everything and start furiously. Buy all the stuff! Get so much done! Get frustrated its not finished in a day; give up and take a nap.
Dreaming is easy. The practical bit is where things fall apart. (Amazingly, ZFB is good at both.)
This has lead to the unfortunate realisation that most big dreams boil down to small, consistent actions. Boring.
But true.
I read a quote years ago: ‘people plan the next eight years without planning the next eight days.’ I can’t remember who said it, but it’s stuck with me—because that’s me.
Big dreams are exciting. We decide to run a marathon, write a book, start a business, learn Italian, meditate every morning or grow all our own vegetables. We make grand declarations about who we’re going to become and what we’re doing to do every day for the rest of our lives.
Then forget about it by lunch.
But the problem isn’t the dream. It’s not even the first step. It’s the million other small steps following the first step. Big dreams take small, boring, repetitive actions. The kind that no one write home about—or posts about on Instagram.
Because you don’t write a book on Wednesday. You write 200 words. Most days you’ll find you write more. Some days 200 words feels like pulling teeth without anaesthetic. But books are written one sentence at a time. And, if you want it to be good, that sentence will probably get edited, and re-written at least twice.
We also must be careful that our big dreams don’t stop us doing things for the fun of it. If as a child you dreamt of being an Olympic gymnast, but you fell short and gave up all together—that dream has robbed you of something more important than medals: it’s robbed you of the joy. The big dream might not have played out, but you can do gymnastics every week. There’s PCYC’s everywhere.
Or you wanted to be in Destiny’s Child. Sure, that bootylicious ship has sailed —but you can still be the independent survivor they wanted you to be. Sign up for singing or dancing lessons. Join a choir (Michelle did) or a 90’s-themed dance group.
Big dreams are great—but stuff that brings you joy every day/week/month is better. For me, I need to stop being so focused on a future version of myself that I forget to start being that person now, with tiny steps (nearly) every day. Authenticity isn’t found, it’s created.
Rather than dreaming big, aim small. Shrink the dream down to something you can do in the next eight days:
Want to garden? Plant one herb. Then make a plan to water it the next day (unless it rains).
Want to read more? Sit outside with a book for 15 minutes. Then block out the next 15 minutes.
Want to get fitter? Go for a walk at lunchtime. Every day this week.
Or go even smaller—but then consider the next step:
Sign up for the dance class. (Then put it in your calendar.)
Email the tennis club. (Ditto.)
Book the piano lesson. (Ditto again.)
Write for ten minutes. (Then set a reminder for tomorrow.)
Meditate for five minutes. (Ditto.)
Open the savings account. (Then set up an automatic transfer for every payday.)
Aim so small it almost feels ridiculous… then do it. The sense of accomplishment upon finishing something, no matter how small, becomes motivation. We feel as though we’re on track, making headway—even when all we’ve done is book a flamenco lesson online.
Once you’ve done the tiny thing, decide what the next actionable tiny thing is and do that.
The saying is: go big or go home—but we got it all wrong. Go small, then you can get it done and feel so good about yourself that you can go home and watch telly or something. The sayings not quite as snappy, but a lot more effective.
Big dreams only get us so far. Aiming small gets us somewhere this week.