How rich is your fantasy life?
When it comes to daydreams, my brain in extraordinarily active. I have not quite decided whether this is a good or bad thing, when it distracts me from work I should be doing or makes me dissatisfied with my life, which is not good.
On the other hand, when it is a cost-free source of quiet joy and hurts nobody, I think it is a good thing.
Many of my fantasies involve travel.
I have two great wish books, “America’s Monuments, Memorial and Historic Sites” and “The Most Scenic Drives in America.”
Now and then, I get out one of them or a volume of the encyclopedia and take an armchair vacation.
Sure, I long to see many of the places up close and personal, but I do not think the fantasizing makes me discontent.
Some of the scenic drives are close enough I may get to do them. In fact, I have experienced part of the “Flint Hills Highlights.”
Who knows, someday I may get to see Mount Rushmore, Devil’s Post Pile, or the Impossible Stairway at Loredo Chapel in Santa Fe.
Even if I do not, I have enjoyed seeing them in pictures and daydreams.
Of course, I can go on all these travels if my fantasy of winning a huge lottery jackpot ever comes true.
Yes, I know, lottery tickets are a foolish waste of money, and I do not buy one often. However, when I do, I believe I get my dollar’s worth in fantasies.
Travel, a new car, a house — I can see them all in my mind’s eye, even though I do not really expect to get them.
Many of the things I think I would spend my winnings on are for other people. I would like to endow some scholarships, particularly one in memory of my father, who after eighth grade had to educate himself.
I could buy an organ for my church, if my pastor did not object to accepting tainted gambling money.
I have some friends in Ellsworth County who have been living for 30 years in a house with no running water. I would like to be able to remedy that situation.
If I ever actually hit the big jackpot, it will be interesting to find out whether I am as unselfish in real life as I am in my daydreams.
In my younger days, there were career-connected daydreams about how much fun it would be to own a small-town bookstore, edit a newspaper, or get a job as a librarian.
Since I have reached retirement age, I do not think about those so much.
Other fantasies over the years have been more individual to me and more random.
I used to imagine a baby left on my doorstep. I even got to dream that in my sleep a time or two. I have more or less given up on that one, since I would not have the resources or the stamina to rear a child in he or she were given to me.
A fantasy that comes to the forefront this time of year is the wish that someone could make fabric the exact color of a wheat field.
Have you noticed lately how many different colors a ripe wheat field can be? Some are almost as bright yellow as a dandelion or daffodil. Others run the gamut through gold, amber, rose gold, and russet.
Any of them would make a beautiful gown. However, my choice would be the color of wheat when it is still emerald green, with just the tiniest hint of gold. For years, I have visualized myself in a taffeta ball gown just that color.
Unfortunately, I doubt that such an achievement is possible, and I am too old for a ball gown anyway.
If any of you think I must be in my second childhood, you are entitled to your opinion. Meanwhile, I will continue to enjoy my little fantasies.