As a child, daydreams were such wonderful getaways. I looked forward to boring classes because it meant I could escape into my utopian dreams where none of my love was unrequited and my curly hair was never a frizzy mess. I fantasized about my dream house and my dream life with Will Friedle and his unquenchable adoration of me and my wit and beauty. Daydreams were such comfortable things, like slipping into a cozy sweater on a cold rainy day. They made my head feel like a place I never wanted to leave.

But then things happen, and not always the way we want them to. People leave, things break, hopes get dashed on the rocky shores of reality. Soon enough, daydreams get replaced by harrowing memories filled with things you need to heal from instead of revel in. It often takes us years to sort through the mess of our minds and make sense of all the trouble we find ourselves in, some of our own making. Daydreams become a distant thing, replaced by urgency, and deadlines, and anxiety. Nobody really has time to settle into long moments of looking into nowhere and travelling to everywhere in your mind.

These days, I find myself constantly filling the silence with podcasts or shows, not because I’m afraid of the silence, but because I am afraid of being alone with my own thoughts. They can take me to places so far away in time that sometimes a few minutes can feel like years. By the time I snap out of my reverie, I feel exhausted and wrung out, like I’ve lived out my experiences all over again. If I stay in the daydream long enough, even if it starts out lovely and exciting, I inevitably find myself walking through the dark and echoey corridors of my mind. Such a shame, because daydreams are such wonderful things. A cotton candy cloud of respite on dreary days. Everyone should be able to daydream.

Today I decided to try and win back some of that joy. I’ve been advised to try meditation; five minutes a day to start with. And the only goal is to be quiet in your own mind, no agenda, no goal. Just… be quiet. I try my best to have regular quiet time with God and my Bible, but even that has a feeling of study for me. It’s not scary because I’m focused on something outside of my own thoughts. I was afraid of meditating because my mind can be such a trap sometimes. She can be such a beautiful liar.

It was worth a try, though. I had a meditation app with all sorts of calming sounds and music, which helps you focus. I set it for five minutes, and then I set my intention to nothing. I closed my eyes, and as the sound of flowing water, birds chirping, and soft music played, I told my mind to be quiet, shush, don’t think. Just listen. Just listen. Ssh.

As the minutes ticked by, I found myself slowly easing into a comfortable silence. I realized that I was always listening to everything outside and never really took the time to listen to what was inside. I wanted to hear nothing else but what my body was telling me, and in that moment, my body was telling me that I was safe.

I thought 5 minutes was going to be torture, but when the timer chimed, I felt like I could keep going. It was so soft, that place I was just in. It felt a little bit like the daydreams of my youth, but this one was nestled in belief, in faith, in the present. I actually really liked it, and that was a pleasant surprise.

I’m looking forward to making this a daily practice now, one I can hopefully make a habit. To allow my mind to make sense of everything that is real in my life and to do away with the anxieties of the unknown. To give my body, heart, mind, and spirit a chance to align with one another, hopefully training myself to be more mindful (and demure, and cutesy… Oh is this not a place for TikTok memes? I apologize). I just want to be so in tune with my own spirit, that I can clearly hear what what God is whispering to it every day. Because sometimes, we can only hear the most important things when we are silent.