Dreams

1.

What is your biggest dream? What is your biggest goal in this life? Well, I can tell you right away that mine is to be a bestseller. Yes, my dream is to be a successful author writing in coffee shops and finding my books in everyone's hands. I've always wanted to live that lifestyle, expressing myself through words and inspiring millions. Although I don't actually like too much attention on myself all of the time, it would be nice to be well known and respected.

Those were the thoughts running through my head as I stared at the blank page on my screen before me. It really was torture to be having so many thoughts circulating through my head, but it was almost impossible to come up with anything. 

If it wasn't for my horrible procrastination and writer's block, I would be much closer to these dreams of mine. But I'm miles away for now, I need to push myself somehow.

Most of the time when I end up actually writing something, it ends up lost in my drafts or crumbled up into a little ball and thrown in my trash. You see, it's painful having so many ideas and never being able to say what you really want to say.

So here I was, staring at the blank screen like I was waiting for the words to just appear themselves. I had a steaming cup of hot tea next to me, I would occasionally take a sip from, hoping the hot liquid would somehow give me my ideas.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice snapped me out of my trance. I looked up at her, she had these soft wrinkles on her face and her auburn hair done up in a neat bun, with snow on top of her head. I realized my chair was blocking her way to the table next to mine, so I scooted my seat to let her by.

"Thank you miss. What are you working on there?" She asked me. 

I looked down at my screen, and back over to the woman who was now sitting at the next table over. "Well, you see, I haven't actually started writing yet. I'm working on a new story, but I can't seem to figure out where to begin." 

"Oh, so you're an author?" She asked me.

"Yes. I like to imagine myself as one. I'm not quite there yet." I replied and then sipped my tea.

"What does that mean, not quite there yet?" She kept the conversation going. I'm not very familiar with casual conversations with strangers.

"I haven't submitted or published anything, yet. I'm still working on finding my voice, you know? I came here to clear my head and write something, but I just don't know where to get my ideas." I explained to the woman, slightly turning my body to face her.

"Every great artist has those struggles. You'll figure it out, I promise. You know what I do for when I need ideas or inspiration? I seek them in my dreams." She told me, moving her hands as she spoke. "I'm a painter. Usually, my ideas come right to me, but when I'm stuck in thought, I get an idea from my sleep." 

"How does that work exactly? How are you able to find inspiration just from sleeping?" I was intrigued now.

"Powerful minds need lots of rest and time to recharge. You need a good night's sleep, that's all." She said, then stood up to go order something.

I don't usually ever receive advice from strangers, but this woman had a point. I don't know why I've never thought of that before. If she can get ideas for just paintings, I can find some sort of inspiration through a dream.

I closed my laptop and got up. The auburn-haired woman was returning back to her table, a hot coffee in her hand. 

"Thank you for your advice ma'am. I'm gonna go. Have a nice day, okay?" I said to the woman.

"Of course. Good luck on your stories miss! I look forward to reading one of them some day." Her smile was warm. I left the tiny coffee shop, the brisk cold hitting me in the face as I made my way through the heavy snow to my car.