Paseal, the dreamer
I think I’ve just realized my biggest problem: I hate planning.
Like, truly hate it. And I didn’t even know until now. I used to think I was good at it — meticulous, even — but deep down, I always felt like my over-planning jinxed things. It’s like the moment I put a plan in place, I’d already doomed it to fail. Instead, everything ends up happening in completely unexpected, jaw-dropping ways that leave me stunned every single time.
I’ve always chalked it up to God’s plan being the best. You know me — I’m God’s last born.
The overwhelming task of writing it all down, the crushing weight of expectations, the suffocating fear that things might not work out, and don’t even get me started on the hope. Oh, the hope! The fragile, flickering hope that the resources I need will magically appear. Then there’s the endless revising and rewriting, only for the entire plan to go sideways before I’ve even ticked off the first goal. It’s exhausting — but oddly uplifting — except when the constant worry threatens to tear me apart. Truly, an endless, exasperating cycle.
Whew. Okay. Paseal, breathe.
Honestly, I just want to pour my heart out, or maybe you can tell me — do you ever feel this way? — Overwhelmed, and stuck even though you know exactly what to do? I wonder if I’m overthinking again or if I’m just stuck in my perfectionist spiral.
Or maybe it's the part of me that just wants to live the baby girl life? LOL
Some days, I just want to stay in bed all day, have breakfast, lunch, and dinner served to me like royalty, open my windows to a stunning beach view, and let the world carry on without me. I wish I could lie in bed and write my heart out — finish the book that’s been haunting me for five years. Or just skip work for two whole weeks and lose myself in nature, soaking up the quiet beauty of a remote hideaway.
I wish things would happen exactly the way I plan them in my head. No surprises, no detours — just perfect alignment. I wish for so many things: a spontaneous trip to Texas, lounging in a high-rise in New York, cruising on a ship in Zanzibar.
But then, just as I’m lost in my fantasies, reality barges in — a knock at the door. I just want to be left alone to dream my heart out. Because honestly? Dreaming is my escape. And maybe, just maybe, one day, I’ll find myself living these dreams.
After all, the life I’m living now was once a dream too, an answered prayer.
So here is the real lesson: there’s nothing wrong with dreaming, my darling. Keep dreaming. Always.
Ever feel like writing back? I’m all for it!
